


Making Contact

by Halfofwhatyouare



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Girl Band, Kinda, Music, Useless Lesbians, cause when are they not in the shit that i write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-12-13 17:23:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 66,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21001391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halfofwhatyouare/pseuds/Halfofwhatyouare
Summary: Trixie, Katya, Amy and Fena are Contact, the quirky pop/rock four-piece from LA currently gaining a lot of attention overseas. As they embark upon their first headline UK tour and get ready to promote their new single, Yellow Cloud, Katya and Trixie are asked by their label, All Star Records, to 'play up' their chemistry on and off stage in order to attract more fans. Over the span of the week, they explore the moral conundrums that come with such a request and begin to re-evaluate how they act with each other when the audience isn't around.





	1. Manchester

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Currently about half way through writing chapter 3 and I'm already over 20k words asdfghjkl. Hope you enjoy!

“You’re an all-female band. What’s it like being a woman in the modern music scene?” 

Katya glanced to her right where Trixie sat, deflated, rolling her eyes. It was the first day of their tour and only the second day of press and Trixie was evidently already fed up. Katya scrambled to try to get a silly answer out before Trixie pissed the interviewer off. Despite usually having such good business acumen, Trixie also had a bad habit of saying something stupid or controversial to the journos. She’d thus gotten herself a bit of a reputation as the mouthy front woman of Contact, the quirky pop/rock four-piece from LA currently attracting a lot of attention overseas. 

It shocked Katya still, despite being active as a group with an actual record deal for over a year, that they had fans. Not because she didn’t think their music was good enough, or because Trixie was that disagreeable (she wasn’t - she was quick witted and hilarious and caring with bomb ass style to boot), but because she was old by the industry’s standards (33) and, most notably, absolutely riddled with anxiety. 

Beside her on a grubby couch - that had definitely been splattered with all sorts of bodily fluids in the past - Trixie beat her to it, plastering on a charming smile and sitting up straight so her tits inadvertently looked even larger than they already were. “St. Vincent did a really good response to this question before she released her last album. You should look it up, if you haven’t already seen it. I couldn’t come up with a better answer than hers.” Katya had to bite down on her bottom lip, hard, to prevent herself from laughing. She really hoped the idiotic mid twenties hipster in front of them had seen Annie Clark’s legendary mock-interview uploaded to her Facebook in a stroke of promo genius. 

“Ohh-kay.” The guy scratched the back of his head and checked his notes, fully aware that that was all he was getting out of them on that particular topic. His British accent was lovely, despite him lacking so much generally as a person, Katya thought. They were in Manchester and she’d been told that there were a billion different accents in and around the infamously rainy northern city, and that people would take staunch offence if you, in any way, lumped them in with The Southerners. She’d understood the last part to be a joke but as the day went on and she overheard two separate insults towards the south, she wasn’t so sure anymore. “You’ve got your debut album coming out in a couple of months. How are you feeling about it all?” 

They had released an EP six months ago to resounding positive reception and had been building their fan base, drawing more and more people into their crazy world via silly Instagram posts, tweets and a sit-down YouTube video which was meant to announce their album title yet ended up being fifteen minutes of Trixie and Katya talking about anything but the damn thing. Fena had moved out of shot thirty seconds in, not one for being in the limelight, and Amy ended up behind the camera giggling at everything coming out of Trixie and Katya’s dumb mouths. The video had over half a million views and their streams on Spotify and the like had increased by almost four hundred and fifty percent thereafter.

“It’s prepped, primed and ready to go!” Katya chirped with a grin, genuine enthusiasm spilling out from every part of her. She found it difficult to stay still at the best of times but when she was this excited, it was near on impossible. Trixie slung her arm around her shoulders to help her out and Katya channeled all her nervous energy into playing with Trixie’s hand, pulling on her index finger every time she wanted to emphasise her point. “Trixie’s a fucking perfectionist, so there were moments when things got tough if she didn’t think something was right. I admire that about her ‘cause I’m often too in my head to solve a problem. She identifies what needs doing and pulls us all together to get it sorted, and it resulted in us making something we’re all really fucking proud of.”

Trixie smiled and Katya noticed the blush that appeared on her round cheeks whenever she was complimented by someone whose opinion she actually cared about. “When we were recording, Katya was going through a bit of a hard time.” Trixie glanced her way to check on her. “I hope you don’t mind me mentioning that?” Katya shrugged then shook her head. It was true. “Well, I’ve said it now and this bozo just got a hot exclusive from me so he won’t be cutting it out. Anyway,” She turned back to face the increasingly flustered journalist, “It was like we weren’t just making music. We were in group therapy six days a week for months on end. Songwriting was intense but it brought us all so much closer as friends and really enabled us to explore and hone our craft. It’s been awful and incredible at the same time.” 

“Right. So if recording was like group therapy, are we to expect heavier lyrics and sounds than what’s on the EP?” 

“I wouldn’t say so but then again I used to be a literal vampire and drink my own blood, so anything less than that I see as lighthearted and fun.” Katya quipped, making direct, impenetrable eye contact with the poor man who was now questioning his career and life choices, or was at least hoping his allotted thirty minutes with the most scatty half of Contact was up. 

Katya couldn’t even remember which publication he was from, though she was satisfied she could at least determine it was a local paper and not another popular online outlet. The previous day had seen them sitting with representatives from Pitchfork, Consequence of Sound, Noisey, Pop Justice and Line of Best Fit in the London offices of their record label. She had a terrible memory as it was but going through a whirlwind of interviews messed with Katya’s recollections completely. As it turned out, talking about herself for three hours straight was actually hard work. Who’d have thought?

Trixie laughed, so shrilly and loudly, that the journalist flinched. “You still haven’t shown me pictures of you from that time, you know.” She said, as if the guy wasn’t even there, wasn’t recording their every word. “I need to see the leather pants and rosary beads combo more than anything else in the world.” 

“I don’t think you’re ready for it.” Katya put on her most serious expression but burst into a wheezing fit before she even finished her sentence. 

“Er…” Trixie and Katya both turned their heads to see their interviewer at a total loss. Trixie, it seemed, thought it best to throw him a bone.

“Basically, there are some songs which reflect all the feelings and difficult stuff we were unearthing at the time and then there are others that I think might surprise people. They’re a lot more cheerful and optimistic. So if you’re looking for a record to off yourself to, this isn’t it.”

What Katya loved about Trixie was the fact that she could make her laugh hundreds of times each day and it never got predictable. Katya bowled over, slapping the grimy material of the sofa and exclaimed, “There’s your headline! We’re doing your job for you.” 

Unsurprisingly, the man wanted to end it there. He dutifully shook both of their hands and informed them that a draft of his article would be sent to their manager, Michelle, by 5pm for her approval to print in the Manchester Evening News the following day, along with a review of their show at The Ritz. They thanked him for his time and politely wished him a nice week. As soon as he was out of their dressing room, they burst into laughter, arms wrapped around one another to keep themselves steady and upright. God help the other poor souls who had to speak with them later in the week, once they were tired out and, in Trixie’s case, hungover as hell. 

It was four o’clock in the afternoon. The whole band were due for soundcheck in half an hour. Katya had been up since seven that morning, finishing off sewing the last bits of her outfits for the week and getting a pep talk from her mom to ease her worries that everything would go wrong and no one would show up. “You’ve seen the numbers of the ticket sales, Katya. You sent them to me!” Her mom had reassured. “Your London dates are almost sold out and tonight’s show did really well, too. You’ll do brilliantly. You’ve come so far, don’t forget that.” 

She had found a midday yoga class to go to at a gym near Piccadilly station and had bought lunch for everyone at the Marks and Spencer there to feel useful and keep herself busy. Walking back along Fairfield Street, her rainbow canvas bag filled with sandwiches (oh so typically British), salads and smoothies, she’d come across a memorial of Alan Turing. Seeing that had put a lot into perspective.

Their sound techs had already set up their pedal boards and amps by the time the four of them stepped out from behind the billowing curtains that separated the backstage area from where the magic happened. Katya’s black Fender Aerodyne Jazz bass stood tall in its stand to the right of the stage. Amy’s Sequential Circuits Pro One and Novation launchkey were stacked perpendicularly to her DSI Prophet 12 to the far left. Trixie’s selection of pink Fender and Gibson guitars were in the centre, and Fena’s drum kit and Roland SPD-SX sampling pad were positioned behind her. 

The venue was efficient and well prepared, the band only having to run through a few songs and a few specific parts of others to get everything ready. Trixie did some vocal warm ups whilst Amy checked her programming on Ableton, the techies surrounding her station and conferring with each other to make small tweaks here and there, getting out the masking tape to prevent mic wires from becoming tangled around her stands. 

“You’re fretting.” Fena’s voice boomed from behind her cymbals and Katya caught herself pacing, playing the same short riff over and over again.

“Literally.” Katya pointed out, jolting her bass and moving her fingers to create a faster, more complex series of notes. 

Fena cackled and played ‘ba dum tss’ before getting the all clear from the sound desk. “I’m gonna get started on the drinks.” She announced, raising up from her stool and raking a hand through her short blonde quiff. “I’d offer to bring you a red bull but we both know that’s not a good idea.”

Katya waved her off and double checked her Boss CE-2 Chorus guitar pedal she used when she wanted to create a more Cure-like tone. It really packed a deep, rich, thick punch when paired with her Way Huge Pork Loin overdrive. She hated shallow sounds, tinny bass lines that left you feeling empty, that didn’t make your heart rattle in its cage, that didn’t infiltrate every fibre of your being. The bass, for her, was the sexiest instrument. She wanted to evoke long, intense orgasms when she played and, whilst her compositions weren’t necessarily sensual, critics, if ever they took notice, often referred to them as ones that could get you hot and bothered. (Only Trixie knew that she’d once sat atop her amp, turned the volume up to its limit and played until she came from the vibrations.)

She noticed, throughout her tinkering, that one of the foldback monitors wasn’t working as crisply as the others and signalled over an engineer from the venue. The band only had two techies of their own, both female upon Katya’s request, and relied on venue staff to properly set them up. It was on her list of goals to have a full team by the end of the year. They just needed to start earning enough from touring to be able to pay for one. 

“‘Iya, love, what’s the problem?” He asked, bending down in front of the offending system. Katya told him what was wrong and he got to work. He was a middle aged man with a pot belly and a red nose. Katya wasn’t sure if she had to stand by and watch over him or not. Trixie was still practicing her scales and stretching out her shoulders, and Amy had left to go get ready. Her makeup looks always took at least two hours.

“My daughter’s coming to yer show tonight.” He said, accent broad as anything, and Katya perked up, asking him how old she was and who she was coming with. “She’s 17, bringing along ‘er friends from college. She found yer video on Youtube and couldn’t stop laughing about it fer days. Drove me mad, it did, but she insisted that you lot were talented musicians so I had to get ‘er tickets with me discount.”

“Well, I’m very glad you did. I hope she enjoys it.” Katya smiled, imagining a gaggle of teens clutching their stubs like she used to when she was younger. 

“I’m sure she will. Though yer not what I imagined.” 

Katya frowned. “What do you mean?” 

He stood, apparently having done his job, and puffed out his chest in that way men did when they wanted to say something offensive to a woman and then play it off as nothing. “Well, yer in trainers and trackies. No Lady GaGa, is it?”

“And do you say that to a male band member when they’re soundchecking? ‘No Mick Jagger, is it’?” She mocked him as best she could whilst keeping up the pretense of nonchalance, like his comment didn’t bother her. 

“Alright, simmer down. I was just saying.” He counteracted as if he wasn’t fully aware of what his intentions were.

“Just don’t.” Katya whipped around to see Trixie right behind her, hands on her hips and back straight so she could maximise her height. Katya let out a deep breath she didn’t realise she was holding in, relieved to have back up. “Thanks for your help,” Trixie said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “We need to go get ready now. We’ll be sure to put our GaGa costumes on just for your viewing pleasure.” 

Trixie swiftly grabbed her hand and led her off the stage, through a couple of dingy corridors to their dressing room. Amy was at the mirror, foundation and contouring complete but eyes bare as of yet. “You guys ok?” She asked, looking at them through the glass with distinct concern.

“Just had our first bout of sexism-on-tour, that’s all.” Katya sighed and Trixie pulled her into her side, rubbing up and down her arm to settle her. 

“Shit, what happened?” Trixie filled her in whilst Katya went outside with Fena for a cigarette. By the time she came back, she had calmed down, pushing all thoughts of him away and focussing on preparing for the show, mentally and physically. 

Katya’s fashion sense (or lack thereof, Trixie would joke) was unique, to say the least. During the day, she’d be found in leggings or joggers and one of her many merch t-shirts, ranging from Game of Thrones (her favourite depicted Olenna Tyrell wearing shades with the slogan ‘It Was Me’ above her adorned headdress) to Madonna (it had a screen printed, purposefully bad drawing of her, stated very clearly that it was ‘The Singer’ on the front and made everyone laugh when they first saw it). She also loved to wear the band’s own merch, which featured different illustrations of them in bizarre scenarios, designed by a very talented fan. 

On stage, she flitted between hand-embellished dresses, floaty sheer black materials and high waisted shorts with crop tops and heeled biker boots. Her wardrobe wasn’t at all cohesive but, if her Instagram comments were anything to go by, fans went absolutely wild for her looks, even going so far as to dress up as her. 

Trixie and Amy also attracted a lot of attention for their respective aesthetics. Though similar, Trixie drew more inspiration from country music and her vast Barbie collection, whereas Amy paid homage to her Asian heritage with cutesy short slips, over the knee stockings decorated with lace or bows and big pastel heels. The colour pink featured almost permanently on both their bodies, however, a stark contrast to Katya’s blacks and reds. 

Peering over her suitcase, Katya listened in to Amy and Trixie facetiming their friend Kim and yelled out her greeting before getting to work on her outfit. She decided on keeping it simple but effective for her first night as anything too glittery or tricky to put on would only make her anxious. She’d showered at the gym earlier and so pulled her t-shirt and joggers right off. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath and she wheezed a laugh when Kim intoned, “Wow, it’s so lovely to see you, Katya.” 

Katya eased the tightest black vinyl trousers over the small swell of her ass, fixed them so they didn’t bunch up at her knees and sat at the right place on her slender waist. Next, she put on a plain black bra and swathed herself in a see through, sleeveless long shirt with silver sequined detail at the neckline. She had made it a couple of weeks ago, using the needlework as a means to keep her hands occupied during a meeting with the band’s label, All Star Records, owned by one of the most innovative execs in the industry at the moment - RuPaul Charles. It wasn’t a particularly important meeting but Katya freaked every time she had to attend one. 

Her hair had dried naturally, her fringe sitting weirdly on her forehead. She plugged in her straighteners and cooed over Amy’s look whilst they were heating up. “And what about me?” Trixie exclaimed, affronted, with her arms held out wide. She’d put on an adorable metallic pink mini dress over a white collared shirt, its lantern sleeves translucent, and a pair of white platform boots. Her hair wasn’t done yet and there was one of Amy’s bows placed next to her hairbrush waiting to finish everything off. 

“Beautiful.” Katya beamed and bounded over to her to give her a peck on the cheek. 

They spent the rest of their time before their opening act took to the stage finishing applying their makeup. Fena came back in with five minutes to spare, worked a bit of pomade through her hair and made sure her t-shirt and jeans didn’t have any ash on them. “Butch privilege.” She raised her beer in a toast and the others all cheered. 

They liked to watch their opening act, at least on the first one or two nights of tour. Amy, Fena and Trixie would down a few beverages and Katya would have a joint if she was feeling too antsy. That night, she abstained, wanting a clear head, and she trailed behind the others to the side of stage. They stood far back enough so they wouldn’t be spotted by the crowd but close enough to see the drummer pound away, strong arms straining and seventies shaggy haircut bob up and down. 

“She’s hot.” Katya remarked quietly into Trixie’s ear. 

“Eh, I’ve seen better.” 

Katya huffed a laugh. “Well obviously. You’re around me, a charismatic woman of grace and dignity, all the time.”

Trixie scream-laughed and the others, immune to it by now, carried on watching, tapping their feet to the beat of the Mancunian band’s rousing first song. The rest of their set passed in a similar manner, Trixie and Katya murmuring comments to each other and getting pumped up by silly dancing around Amy and Fena. Amy giggled constantly and Fena looked like she was about to shove her drumsticks up their asses. Michelle arrived at the side of the stage half an hour before they were due on, having spent the rest of the time working solidly on press and scheduling. “You’re gonna smash it, girls.” She announced as they made their way back to their dressing room to do final vocal warm ups and stretches. 

Michelle went over their itinerary before they got too fixated on their performance to concentrate. “Venue want you out by curfew so if there are any fans at the stage door, discreetly pick a few to bring to Jimmy’s after and tell the others you have to get going. Don’t choose the girl who sent her nudes to Katya on Twitter.” 

“Damn, ruining her fun.” Trixie interrupted, sardonically.

“Which was that one again, so I know?” Fena asked, taking her orders seriously.

“She’s got green hair and an eyebrow piercing.” Michelle supplied.

“And huge tits.” Katya quipped.

“That’s enough.” Michelle said after she let them cackle for a while, firmly but with a glint in her eye. “Jimmy’s are offering you free drinks up to £30 each if you post on Instagram geotagging them. Fair, I think. The bus will be outside at one thirty. I will happily abandon you to make your own way to Scotland if you’re not on it on the dot, have no doubts about that, so make sure you start leaving at twenty past. We’ll drive overnight and you’ll be in Glasgow by the time you wake up. All good?”

“Yes, boss!” The four of them shouted in unison, like soldiers called to duty. Amy started to wiggle her hips as she shifted her weight from foot to foot - the tell tale signs of adrenaline kicking in. Katya resisted going for a last minute smoke, instead standing tall and pulling her leg up so her ankle touched her head. Trixie and Fena chatted whilst completing their last bout of shoulder rotations and, before they knew it, they were getting their five minute warning.

As Katya walked to the side stage, the pre-show music got louder and louder and her heartbeat, pounding and insistent, seemed to as well. The four of them had spent an inordinate amount of time compiling the tracklist to be played before their intro, ensuring they all got an equal share of songs that reflected both their musical and cultural influences. Katya had somehow managed to persuade the others to let her have the final slot, which meant that they would always be sent off to play by the iconic rasp of Alla Pugacheva (Позови меня с собой  
was a formative musical experience for Katya and no one could take the people’s artist of the USSR away from her). 

Fena, Amy, Trixie and Katya all joined hands in a circle as everything went quiet. They squeezed each other and looked into each other’s eyes, both to say ‘good luck’ but also ‘we don’t need it, we’ve got this down’. “Ready?” Trixie asked, redundantly and rhetorically, because they were. They’d worked hard for this and Katya, in particular, knew that this tour was them coming out the other side, seeing the light after spending so long grafting away in windowless studios and cramped rehearsal spaces, and under murky clouds. 

The crowd’s chatter dissipated for a moment as they collectively realised it was all about to begin. Then, as sudden as lightning, cheers and shrieks and thunderous claps roared out from the stalls and Contact were given the signal that they were good to go. The backlights were raised, the atmosphere was electric and Katya’s entire body went numb from anticipation. “Let’s do this, bitches!” Amy exclaimed, leading the way out beyond the curtains, trotting playfully with her arms swinging back and forth and her towering heels hitting her ass with every jaunty step. She went to the edge of the stage first to give the crowd a wave and blow a dainty yet earnest kiss to those in the front row, who had clearly queued for hours. 

Fena slunk out behind her when she went to stand behind her synths, waving her sticks in the air and settling onto her stool without much fuss. As Amy checked her controller settings and Fena pounded the bass drum a few times to ease into her foot positioning, Trixie and Katya made their way to centre stage, holding hands and waving frenziedly to another round of deafening ovation. Katya was enough of a narcissist to enjoy how she and Trixie were the most popular out of the group and, some days, when she felt good about herself, she could acknowledge that she was the ultimate fan favourite, that she was loved. 

Trixie had once commented that they always looked like they were turning up to separate events and that night, when their outfits couldn’t be more polar opposite, proved no different. Still, they worked. They’d been best friends for years and Katya counted her blessings that she got to live out her dream life with Trixie by her side. She couldn’t imagine being able to do it with anyone else. Literally. Trixie pushed her in ways she would never push herself, equally supporting and uplifting her when she found everything impossible. If it wasn’t for Trixie, she’d have lost herself all over again and she knew that it was even harder to bounce back a second time around.

Prancing to her bass, Katya lifted up the material of her shirt to let it float and twirl in the air along with her. The crowd didn’t stop cheering and, once her strap was secured over her narrow shoulders and she’d checked her tuner, she dared to look out beyond the barriers properly for the first time. A sea of delighted faces radiated high energy and animation, women of all ages jumping up and down and raising their hands in the air either in greeting, hoping for a wave back from the band, or overall elation. She didn’t have too long to get lost studying the details of the room, didn’t let herself think about the engineer’s daughter and her friends or if he was there too, scrutinising her for his ego’s sake from the comfort of the sound deck. 

In the last few spare seconds before the lights dropped completely and they were plunged into darkness, she glanced at Trixie and relished in the feeling flooding back through her body as Trixie gave her a wink, telling her, without words, everything she needed to hear. 

The looping lilt of Amy’s synth above the whistles and whooping of their audience was hypnotic, pulling Katya under instantly, her eyes falling closed. Their intro (aptly named ‘Intro’) was the first track on their EP, recorded with this very moment in mind. For a while, it featured only Amy’s part, drifting out amongst the throng and captivating them with its simple oscillation from bass notes to a higher toned treble. Fena counted them in, hitting her sticks together four times before setting off her crisp drum beat whilst Katya simultaneously began to pluck her simple but permeating bass line, low and long lasting notes suffusing throughout the venue and beyond its meagre walls. Trixie’s guitar riff came in shortly after, swirling and dreamy with a prominent chorus effect, and each component built and built and built until Katya couldn’t even tell if she was breathing anymore, her focus slave to the sounds they were creating, her body swaying, hips circling of their own accord. 

As the song reached its climax, the tension had completely seeped out of Katya. Performing freed her so much, so that her only uncomfortable sensation was the bead of sweat threatening to spill from her temple (her Instagram bio wasn’t ‘sweatiest woman in showbusiness’ for nothing). She edged closer to Trixie and together they danced until their last notes rang out, barely giving the audience time to react before their next song began. 

In terms of opening nights, this one was a fucking catherine wheel, explosive and bright and joyful - everything Katya could have hoped for and more, and undoubtedly the best they had ever experienced as a band together. The crowd sang along to their older material, vibrantly and with a kind of subservience Katya instantly cherished, got into the spin of their covers (a medley Dolly Parton once performed at Glastonbury, blending Baby I’m Burning with Great Balls of Fire, and an acoustic rendition of Time After Time for the first half of their encore) and seemed to fall in love with their new tracks, too. Their most dedicated fans already knew the words to Yellow Cloud and Katya, through the glare of the stage lights, could see painted red and pink mouths singing Trixie’s lyrics as if they were accompanying her. They had ended the show with it, lengthening it’s outro into a five minute jam leaving everyone in the room, themselves included, a drenched, crazed mess. 

Amy liked to lift each of the others up so the crowd could give them another round of roaring applause before they left the stage. It was her party trick of sorts as she appeared so short and delicate and surely incapable of heaving all five foot ten of Trixie off the ground. Katya wasn’t so much trouble but it impressed her nonetheless and made her laugh every time she did it. They each yelled out their thanks before returning to their dressing room, where they screamed and hugged and jumped up and down as if that was not all they’d been doing for the past hour or so. Michelle came in with a bottle of champagne and some alcohol free Freixenet for Katya, toasted such an amazing start to the tour and popped the cork, sending it shooting straight into Fena’s chest. The screeches and laughter heightened once more and Katya couldn’t be certain, for her memory was shot to shit, but was pretty damn sure that this was the happiest, most exhilarated she had ever had the fortune of feeling. 

They had barely any time to pack up, instead prioritising drinking, celebrating and posting pictures they’d taken backstage to their individual Instagrams before uploading one to the band’s page that Michelle had snapped during their encore. “What’s our caption, ladies?” Amy asked, waiting for Trixie or Katya to come up with something funny.

“Manchester, you were great! You cured my IBS and your shitty weather literally watered my crops.” Trixie supplied off the top of her head.

“P.S.,” Katya added, “Russia killed thirty million of its own citizens during the Soviet Era.” She gave Amy a faux-traumatised look. Amy just giggled uncontrollably, typing on her iPhone as quickly as she could, becoming tipsy already, Katya noted fondly.

Their techies, Shea and Naomi, were busy putting their equipment into their cases and detangling wires, collecting all the band’s stuff together to load onto the bus ready for the journey to Glasgow. Trixie and Katya linked arms as they gave them their thanks for their hard work that day. “See you soon at Jimmy’s, yeah?” Trixie called out to them as she led Katya towards stage door. She was stable on her feet but Katya could see the flush appearing on her neck where her foundation wasn’t as thickly applied. Trixie had enjoyed Michelle’s champagne and Katya enjoyed how it softened Trixie’s edges.

Fena was already out meeting the fans and, by the time Katya and Trixie appeared, Katya’s Twitter nudes girl was nowhere to be seen. Fena took good care of her with constant little gestures that added up to an immeasurable amount of protection, so she had no doubt that Fena had sent her on her way. Katya hadn’t been sure of how many people to expect to be waiting for them. It had started to rain so that had probably put some off. There were five women in their early twenties and one guy who looked a bit younger that the rest of the group. 

“Are you here for the Schuman bar mitzvah?” Katya put on her Russian accent to greet them and they all instantly burst into laughter. 

“Oh my god,” A cute, chubby redhead gushed, “I have a Russian friend and she says your pronunciation is impeccable.” 

“Aww, спасибо.” Katya grinned and hugged the girl. The rest also wanted a “Katya cuddle” and she made her way around the group. Trixie didn’t like hugs from strangers and, thankfully, this lot already knew that. Trixie high fived a few of them and some of the others were content just to get an opportunity to speak with her, complimenting her on her outfit and performance. 

“You guys are so lovely. I love your accents.” She said, a charmer when she wanted to be. “We’re actually heading over to a bar, if you wanna join us? I’ve seen a few of you on my insta, you are sweet.” 

Katya smiled to herself as eyes widened in surprise and a consensus of yeses rang around the grimy street. Amy eventually came out, umbrellas in hand, and they began to walk, following Fena who had google maps up on her phone. The bar was a fifteen minute walk away if they were quick. Fena set the pace, Trixie and Amy sharing an umbrella and jesting with the redhead and her two friends. The younger guy walked with Fena and Katya couldn’t help wonder if she was his favourite because, like him, she couldn’t disguise her gayness. It was obvious as soon as you looked at them both and Katya understood how terrifying that could be, to walk around in a (sometimes) hostile world with people assigning you as different or ugly because of how apparently deviant you were. 

Katya had an umbrella to herself and got to talking with two of the more reserved girls. They were clearly Katya fans, dressed in gaudy prints and sporting overdrawn, crimson lips like her. One wore an S&M style choker with a big metal o ring and chunky Docs. The other endured the pain of over the knee high heeled boots. They discussed their outfits, the girls each stating how Katya helped them feel comfortable displaying femininity but twisting it in their own way. As lesbians, they said, it had been difficult to reconcile dressing a certain way with wanting to avoid male attention. Katya had inspired them to not give a fuck. “Fuck, that’s amazing. You do you, lovely ladies! And you can also do you, if you catch my drift.” Katya wheeze laughed at her own innuendo. 

“You’re the worst.” One of them braved and Katya felt a warmth spread through her chest at seeing these two loosen and open up. Regardless of how much anxiety they induced, she loved people. She even considered becoming a psychologist at one point because the human mind fascinated her that much. She found herself utterly exhausting and unbearable, oftentimes, but there were moments like these that reignited her inherent interest in those around her, that brought her focus away from herself and the tiny, insular social sphere she had managed to construct. 

Trixie rushed to catch up to Katya when they were passing Piccadilly Gardens, forcing herself under Katya’s umbrella and keeping close to her side, linking her arm with Katya’s. “I just saw a guy full on take a shit on a bench over there.” She exclaimed, squawking her indignation.

“Piccadilly Gardens is, er, wild.” Choker girl said. “Druggies everywhere at all times of the day and then you’ve got the fountains with a load of kids in them. Everyone just gets on with it though. Sums Manchester up, really.” 

Despite bristling at her careless choice of word, Katya appreciated how much she and the people of Manchester generally seemed to have a no nonsense approach to their own city, fiercely proud of and loyal to it whilst hilariously frank about its many bad sides. 

They arrived at Jimmy’s just as the rain was easing up. Katya could hear the music - a live band - from outside. The exterior of the bar featured a long white sign with black lettering displaying who was playing that night, vintage inspired and looking quite like a movie theatre from back in the day. There was a short line waiting to be let in but Fena announced their arrival to security and they were waved through before anyone else. “I could get used to this star treatment.” Trixie said, lips up against Katya’s ear. 

The place’s interior was lit by red lights alone, giving it a rougher but pleasingly seedy atmosphere. The walls were predominantly exposed brick, reflecting the industrial history of Manchester, and had an assortment of neon signs dotted upon them next to the entrance and opposite the bar. There was also a large, luminous ‘I<3MCR’ that people were queuing up to have their photo taken against. 

A small section of the seating area had been reserved for them. Fena deftly told the fans, “Go get some drinks in you and we’ll see you later!” Katya vowed she would make sure to dance with them for a bit once she’d had a sit down and a proper chat about the show with the others. In fairness, she thought, there weren’t enough chairs anyway as the remaining two were for Shea and Naomi and she would probably only encourage a blurring of boundaries if she were to interact with them all night. Doing so, furthermore, would no doubt make things more difficult in the future. She was learning.

Trixie and Fena offered to go get “a round” in and Amy cuddled up to Katya, gushing about how amazing everything had been so far. “I was feeling positive anyway,” She raised her voice to be heard over the music, “But it’s just so cool to actually see people dance and be affected by what we’re doing. Those girls you were talking to were adorable.”

“It just fortifies why music matters, doesn’t it? Like, fuck the sexist techie and the stupid journalist earlier ‘cause they don’t get it, and perhaps they’re not meant to get it. We don’t do this for them. Yeah, we do it for ourselves - I’d be a liar to say otherwise and I’m sure you agree - but by being how we are, we’re doing it for those who’ll come after us, who might even surpass us.” Katya said, watching choker girl and her friend down their drinks in one and hold hands as they positioned themselves to have a better view of the small stage at the back of the room. 

“Ok, grandpa.” Amy joked and Katya huffed a laugh, knowing she shared the same view. Amy was the same age as Katya and had grown up with the riot grrrl movement, attending punk and rock shows almost every weekend, often in other cities she’d have to hitchhike to get to, her sister or her roommate in tow. Her idol was still Theo Kogan and she wasn’t ashamed of basing a lot of her looks on the Lunachicks frontwoman. 

Trixie and Fena returned with a selection of drinks that had been recommended to them by the bartender. Trixie carried a diet coke for Katya and nudged it towards her once she’d sat down. Facing each other, Trixe and Katya shared a private smile, one that reinforced their understanding whenever they went out like this. Katya was to tell Trixie immediately if she felt off, unnerved or tempted by any of the drinking or drug taking going on around her. Trixie would then give her some options and, if it was necessary, would take her away from the environment as soon as possible. Katya was usually absolutely fine. It was just best to err on the side of caution to ensure Trixie’s peace of mind, more than anything else. Katya was like her prized possession.

“I like it in here.” Trixie said to Katya. “Makes me think of you.”

“Gay.” Fena yelled and took a long sip of the honeycomb ale before passing it to Trixie to try. 

“Oh honey, this honeycomb is fierce, honey, oh honey!” She exclaimed, pitch almost at a screech by the end of her little outburst. Katya wheezed a long laugh that resulted in a coughing fit as if she’d smoked a pack of cigarettes that day (she’d actually been cutting down considerably) and she banged her fists on the table, rattling the glasses. Amy had managed to film it all and uploaded the video to her Instagram stories, checking her notifications in the meantime.

Katya gulped down her coke and suggested, after everyone had had another drink and was inching towards suitably tipsy, to hit the floor. The band were in full swing, it seemed, and their energetic guitar riffs and stomping drum beats were getting Katya in the mood to dance until she could barely stand. She’d changed shoes from her heeled boots to her black trainers and swapped her shirt for a 90s inspired Lana Del Rey tee she’d bought off Etsy, which she tied in a knot at the waist so a slither of her abs were visible. “Yeah!” Amy cheered and got up as quick as a flash. 

The four of them took to the dancefloor once Trixie had texted Shea and Naomi where to find them. They were on their way and Katya, as much as she adored them, wanted to make the most of the time she had with Trixie before they turned up. She wasn’t prone to jealousy in friendships, saw it as a waste of time and a reflection of one’s own insecurities rather than anything conducive, but she couldn’t help the envy she experienced when the three of them recalled a memory from their time in college together in Chicago. She despised how it made her feel - at her age! She just wasn’t used to not being in on the joke with Trixie. 

They were a formidable duo and that was that.

Whilst Amy and Fena mingled with their fans, Katya pulled Trixie into a hug, catching her off guard. She smiled when Trixie instantly melted into her. “You were out of this world tonight.” Katya yelled into her ear. “Did you see the girl with that sign for you?” Katya had spotted her during their third song, waving a pink glittery piece of cardboard which had ‘mad for Mattel’ written on it in the Barbie font.

Trixie nodded, tucked her chin in as if she were embarrassed by Katya’s compliment. She wasn’t. “Seems like you’ve got a few superfans here, too.” Trixie wrapped her arms around Katya’s bony, narrow shoulders and motioned towards choker girl and her friend. Trixie smirked and towered over her in her platforms, the flaming light caught up in her blonde hair and tinged the flyaways framing her face. “Less anxious now?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna call my mom tomorrow, let her know I’m feeling better.” It was a strange sort of conversation to have when everyone around them was jumping about, shouting and spilling their drinks over each other. They were in their own little bubble, making themselves heard over the racket. 

“Good, she’ll feel way more at ease. She knows I’m looking after you, anyway.” Trixie and Katya’s mom got on like a house on fire. They texted, not just about Katya, but about the dire state of American politics, their new kitchen appliances and about almost any kind of food item. It soothed Katya to know that the two most important people in her life held such high esteem for one another. 

“Shut up, I’m a fully grown human woman who can totally take care of herself.” 

Trixie rolled her eyes good naturedly. Katya eased out of their embrace to twirl Trixie around and bring her into the circle that had formed with their fans so they could all dance and flail about together. Once Shea and Naomi showed up, they made quite an impression amongst the rest of the crowd, the band giving them a shout out for their moves during their encore.

When their set was over, the bar’s soundsystem blasted Britpop and Madchester classics and although she wasn’t really knowledgeable about those genres, Katya gave it all she had, spinning Amy until she had to prop her up for fear of her falling and flashing her knickers like she had done many times before, bounding around Fena and taking it in turns with each of the fans to make up interpretative dances to This Charming Man and Happy Mondays’ Step Up. 

By the time twenty past one came around, Katya was drenched in sweat and didn’t want the night to end. Trixie was leaning what felt like most of her weight on Katya to keep herself vertical and Fena had finally hit her limit, eyes unfocused and an utterly dopey expression on her face. Katya went to hug the fans, who all expressed their appreciation for being invited along on their night out. “It’s been incredible, thank you so, so much. You guys are the best - hilarious!” The redhead said. Choker girl and her girlfriend, it seemed by how they’d ferociously made out on the dancefloor, kissed Katya on the cheek, told her how hot she was and how grateful they were to have met someone who had (unknowingly) helped them so much. Alcohol made them bold. 

Katya wished them the best. “And you better fuck each other’s brains out when you get home. End the night properly!” 

The six of them stumbled onto the tour bus, miraculously on time, and Michelle kissed each of them good night, already in her pajamas, her eye mask pulled up on her forehead and a satisfied smirk on her face like she had trained them well. 

It was dark and cramped and their bunks were so close together that it was as if they were all sleeping on top of each other. It took a while for them to take their makeup off and sort their clothes out. Fena was the first to get into her bunk, telling everyone to keep it the fuck down and abruptly closing her curtain. Amy traipsed about looking for her micellar water, one heel on, one heel strewn further down the corridor, and Naomi was complaining because her legs were too long for the length of her bed.

Katya had to help Trixie out of her clothes, her movements too sloppy to coordinate unzipping her dress. “I’m so sorry.” She slurred, wearing just her underwear, and Katya assured her everything was fine, telling her to go wipe her face, brush her teeth and then come to Katya’s bunk. She didn’t like Trixie sleeping alone when she was drunk. Katya had picked up strange worries surrounding her loved ones if they were under the influence, ones that luckily didn’t manifest into controlling behaviour. She wanted to be there if Trixie needed her. 

Katya took off her trousers and unhooked her bra beneath her t-shirt, pulling it out one of the sleeves, and got into her bunk. She stretched, toes curling and feet beginning to ache, and waited for Trixie. She checked her phone, firing off a text to her mom and her friend Craig to let them know how the show went. Wriggling about to get comfy, she scanned the comments on the band’s Instagram which ranged from the expected ‘come to Brazil’, ‘queens!!’ and ‘omg you were so good’ to the more humourous and impassioned (‘fuck my pussy with a rake, mom!’, an old Katya quote, ‘sjdhoehfoe the trixya moments just keep coming’ and ‘fml trixya killed me dead and snatched my fucking wig tonight’). 

Katya sniggered to herself. 

“What?” Trixie asked, clambering in next to Katya and accidentally crushing her arm in the process. 

Katya maneuvered them both so Trixie’s cheek rested against her chest, her hand wrapping around her body. She passed her phone over and Trixie squinted to scroll through the streams of small text. “‘Apparently they were dancing really close at the bar they went to after the show. My friend was there with them and said she almost lost her shit from how cute they were.’” Trixie read aloud. “Do these guys actually think we’re together or is it, like...what do they call it?”

“Shipping?” Katya supplied, feeling like an ancient imposter even reciting that word. She was still down with the kids, right? She could out-dance a fair few of them, that was for sure. 

“That’s it.” Trixie drew out the s sound and let out a nasal laugh. 

Katya inched her face closer to Trixie’s so she could take scope of just how many comments they’d gotten. “‘Trixya 4 life xoxo’ - I like that one the most.” She murmured, eyelids getting heavier with the need to rest. 

“Trixya for life.” Trixie echoed, tilting her head up so she could press a soft but long-held kiss to Katya’s chiselled jawline. Katya smiled to herself, feeling Trixie instantly drift off, and pressed one last kiss to Trixie’s forehead before she fell asleep too.


	2. Glasgow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your response to the first chapter :') I hope you enjoy this one too. I'm off on my hols tomorrow and plan to get lotsssss of writing done whilst I'm away but it'll probably be over a week before I post chapter 3. Sorry ;)

“Tell us about the new single, Yellow Cloud, that’s coming out next Friday. You’ve said it’s inspired by The Beach Boys, that kind of sound, which I find really interesting. Was it a conscious decision to write a song like that or did it just happen?” Vic, the presenter for BBC Introducing Scotland, had done his research and Katya was eased by his friendly manner and joyous face. It appeared like he was actually interested in them and, even if he wasn’t, it helped Katya feel less on edge about speaking on the radio. Their slot was pre recorded, to be aired on Thursday night, so at least if she swore or said something really out there, it could be edited out.

The four of them were present for this particular interview upon Michelle’s instruction. Katya supposed she’d gotten a bit of flack after the MEN debacle and was taking precautions, trusting that there’d be more of a balance and tendency to stick to the topic at hand if Amy and Fena were by their side. 

“I knew I wanted something upbeat and I’d listened to Wouldn’t It Be Nice, like, seven times one night. I guess I was going through it!” Trixie laughed, self deprecating. “I was imagining this picture perfect relationship that I think a lot of Americans, at least, grow up dreaming about but rarely finding. So that’s what inspired the lyrics too.”

Fena leaned into the mic. “Me and Katya got together once Trixie had put down her initial acoustic lines to figure out the rhythm section and then we pieced it all bit by bit. Amy added her parts to really flesh out the sound. It’s got a bit more of a punch than The Beach Boys, I think, so we’re not stepping on any toes.” 

Vic laughed. “There’ll be no legal battles then.” 

“No thanks!” Amy yelped, pretending to be concerned. “We’re good girls.” 

“Well…” Katya smirked, winking over dramatically, not thinking about listeners not picking up that particular bit. 

“Is Yellow Cloud indicative of the overall sound of the album? You recorded it in LA, right? But it’s been mixed in London?” 

“Oh wow, someone’s done their homework.” Trixie intoned. It would come off rude were she not visibly flattered. 

“I don’t get paid otherwise, unfortunately.” Vic joked. 

"Yeah we recorded in LA. Our label sorted us out with a studio ‘cause before that we’d only recorded in a makeshift one at Trixie’s house. A lot of All Star projects are based in LA and London, so I guess it made sense to have our mix done there. I’m not really sure who decided what but we’re very happy with the result.” Katya explained, glad to be able to keep her responses sensible so she wasn’t going off on tangents like she was prone to do. It helped that Trixie was hungover and therefore not in the mood to piss about quite yet. 

“I wouldn’t say Yellow Cloud is out of place on our album but it’s very standout. There are some tracks that lyrically and sonically might match up with it but there are others that don’t. We wouldn’t want to limit ourselves.” Trixie added. 

Amy shifted on her chair, folding her legs so her chunky wedges dug in to Trixie’s thigh. “We managed to get it all as cohesive as possible when our stuff takes inspiration from such a wide range of genres and ideas.”

"I can’t wait to hear it and I know that you’re pulling in fans by the second over here. You’re probably most well known for your infamous YouTube video and I know that Trixie and Katya, you in particular have gained a lot of attention for your antics on and off stage. Do you plan any of that stuff or is it genuinely just spur of the moment?” Vic had the air of a person who carefully worded his questions. Katya didn’t know what it was about this one that gave her a funny feeling, not necessarily negative, but it nested in the pit of her stomach nonetheless.

“No of course we don’t, we’re just messing around and if someone happens to film it and it makes people laugh, great.” Trixie replied. 

Katya nodded for Vic’s benefit. “You can’t manufacture comedic genius, Brenda. People would pick up on something if it was contrived, I think, and fans of ours are savvy to that kind of thing. That’s the main reason that video got so much traction - because it was an accident.” 

"And Katya and I are lucky that we have such similar senses of humour.”

“She’s the ointment to my scabs!” Katya exclaimed.

Vic wrapped things up shortly after and Katya felt accomplished because she was pretty sure she hadn’t screwed anything up. The four of them huddled into their jackets when leaving to go back to The Garage to soundcheck. Manchester was damp but relatively mild compared to Glasgow. There was still a chilly breeze despite it being June and Katya didn’t much like it, tucking her chin as close to her chest as it could possibly go to try and keep warm without a scarf. It was supposedly fifteen degrees but it felt like five to a long term LA resident. 

“At least this wind is blowing my hangover away.” Trixie grimaced. 

When they got backstage, they warmed up with Katya leading them in a simple yoga sequence and doing some stretches to open their chests and ease their shoulders. Soundcheck took more time that day because the venue was a lot smaller and there were fewer staff. They’d been informed that they’d sold out that very morning. Shea and Naomi rushed around to try and get as much sorted before the opening act were due to arrive and set up. It was at this point that Trixie was beginning to come into herself again and Katya instantly felt herself brighten too, cracking jokes and making skits up, putting on silly voices for each of her characters and hanging on Trixie’s every word to keep up with her quick wit. 

That day, she felt totally at ease when thinking of their upcoming performance. The previous night had boosted her confidence tremendously and speaking to her mom earlier and hearing how delighted she was (despite it being an ungodly hour in the morning in Boston) really helped maintain her positive self esteem. 

Soundcheck passed without a problem but there were instances when one or more of them were left to wait around. Trixie and Katya used this opportunity to take photos of each other, competing to find the most outrageous pose to get into whilst strapped to their instrument. It was no surprise to Katya that, when they put the poll up on Instagram stories for fans to decide, she won by sixty seven percent. 

“Well, I don’t know what to say,” She began recording a video of herself as if she was accepting an award, “I don’t even have a speech prepared! But I would like to thank my family who keep me humble, my friends who keep me grounded and Trixie Mattel, whose luscious locks, long limbs and _whole_ chunky ass really gave me stiff competition. я звезда - навсегда. спасибо большое.”

Trixie scream laughed as soon as she was mentioned and came up behind Katya, chest pressed against Katya’s back so she could fit into the shot. The video just about caught her calling Katya a “fucking whore” and comments from fans instantly flooded Katya’s notifications. She closed the app, pocketed her phone, turned around and pounced on Trixie, clinging onto her like a koala. “If I end up in a neck brace after this week is through, I’m holding you wholly responsible and you can foot the bill.” Trixie strained to say before Katya let her go. 

“I think a pink neck brace would complete all your looks. Really round off the insanity.” Katya quipped with a shit eating grin.

Before Trixie could respond, Amy shouted over to them, “Hey, dykes, they’re ready for you!” 

Trixie and Katya had to run through their solos for the fifth song of their set and one of Katya’s absolute favourites to perform. Trixie had wanted to make a slight change to the first part of her solo which meant that they had to practice it during soundcheck so  
Naomi and Shea knew what to expect and so Trixie could remember to tap her pedals at the right moment during the actual show. “I want it grittier, sooner.” She explained to Katya as she was turning down one of the knobs on her chorus pedal. “I think there was a bit too much chorus on it last night.” 

“You can never have too much chorus, mama.” Katya said, absentmindedly playing the bass line to the second verse of the song as she edged closer and closer to Trixie, observing exactly what she was doing, crouched down with her guitar laying flat and its strings facing upwards on her knees. Trixie knew what she wanted - and she always got what she wanted - and Katya both admired and was amused by that fact. “It does sound better like this though.” 

They smiled at each other in that tender way they did whenever they were on the same page with regards to band decisions. Katya readily accepted that Trixie was their driving force creatively and organisationally, but every now and then Katya had a stroke of genius that turned a good song or idea into a great one. In those moments, Trixie’s approval was her biggest reward. “Why don’t you…” She trailed off, lifting her bass to put it down at her feet before tweaking the tone and drive on Trixie’s Hot Ice distortion pedal. “Try it now.”

Trixie stood up and played the first few bars of her solo. “Holy shit!” She shrieked. “AAAAH that’s perfect. I wish we’d have recorded it like that now.” 

“We can do, at the Maida Vale sessions.” Katya beamed up at her, could see where the roll of fat on her stomach peaked out between the hemline of her t-shirt and the waistband of her jeans. Katya had braided her hair almost as soon as they had woken up that morning, Trixie demanding a head massage and to have some “princess time” because she felt so rough. Katya wasn’t as good at plaiting as Trixie but her attempt was still holding up pretty well and Trixie didn't complain. That’s all she could ask for really. 

“Guys, we need to get a move on. You can lez out in your own time. From the top and then we’ll finish with everyone on Yellow Cloud and you’ll be good to go.” Shea interrupted. They did as they were told, knew better than to mess with Ms Couleé. 

Back in their dressing room, the muffled noise of their opening act soundchecking infiltrated through the walls. Both Amy and Fena were taking calls. Michelle was in there with them, typing furiously on her laptop and resting her phone between her shoulder and her ear, finalising the arrangements for their acoustic session with Doc Martens in Camden at the end of the week. 

Trixie stretched out on the sofa (Michelle had spread a blanket out on it, which indicated it must have been even grosser than the one at The Ritz, and that was saying something), her outfit for the night hung up and ready for Fena to steam. It was a pale pink, western inspired shirt dress with white tassel detail in a v shape from the side of the shoulders to the middle of the chest. Its long sleeves had white musical notations printed vertically to the cuffs. Katya loved that dress on Trixie, how short and teasing it was, how it skimmed her figure and summed up her aesthetic beautifully.

“Do you trust me enough to wear heels tonight?” Katya asked, rummaging through her giant, open suitcase, clothes of all kinds spilling out from where they had been laid flat, folded neatly. Katya knew that by the end of the week, she’d just shove everything in and hope for the best, but for now she wanted to maintain some sort of structure to her packing.

“I trust you to fall over at least once, yeah.” Trixie said, completely horizontal and not looking up from her phone.

Katya huffed a laugh. “You bitch.” She pulled out the items she was searching for. “I’m thinking: black ruffled shirt, black bodysuit, rhinestone tights and heels. Oh, and that sparkly belt I made so I can tuck my shirt into it.” 

Trixie put her phone down on her chest so she could survey what Katya was holding up. “Fuck, are those the Louis Vuitton rip offs you customised?” She reached out, making grabbing motions towards Katya’s shoes. Katya dutifully went over to her with them so Trixie could inspect her work, run her hands over them and smirk at the fake red soles. “These are amazing.” Trixie couldn’t take her eyes off of them, studying the different coloured gems Katya had selected and glued onto each intersection of the fishnets. Katya tried not to blush. Sewing and restyling garments were skills she found exceptionally gratifying to possess. The feeling intensified tenfold when Trixie commended her efforts. Katya extolled Trixie’s many talents and she liked how each of their skill sets made up for what the other’s lacked.

Once Trixie had put them down, Katya flopped onto the couch. Trixie had to turn on her side so they could both fit, their faces inches apart. “I think I spent a good four days on those.” Katya said, quieter now. It was solacing to have a peaceful reprieve here and there amongst the chaos of their schedule, the never ending peaks and troughs of a touring musician’s activity. 

“It shows. They’re genuinely, like, spectacular. I want to try them on but my clown feet would stretch them out.” 

“That’s true.” Katya stuck out her tongue when Trixie voiced her played up vexation. “When we get home?” She suggested to appease her.

“Deal.” They lay in dreamy silence, then, letting the conversations around them wrap them up. Katya played with the end of Trixie’s braid where her hair tie was beginning to slip out, holding onto it like a brush and caressing Trixie’s cheek with gentle swipes. Trixie closed her eyes and Katya touched lightly across each of her lids, reveling in being able to see Trixie like this. 

She considered their fans, how they perceived Trixie as this larger than life, sarcastic and sexy character with heart wrenching, biting or wistful lyrics and entrancing melodies. She had all those traits, of course, but they didn’t get to experience Trixie, the person - the woman who stood by her through her psychotic break down, who kept her going in rehab and whispered, “I will always wait for you.” when she made the brave decision to extend her stay. She wouldn’t want anyone but her to know that Trixie. It wouldn’t be fair.

They both must have drifted off because Katya was woken an undetermined amount of time later by Amy wafting food in front of her. “Come on, old, get this in you.” She ordered affectionately, unloading a range of vegetarian Indian dishes from a place a few doors down from the venue onto the table. Trixie sat up behind Katya and groaned, placing a hand on her hip to steady her as she stretched and yawned. They arranged themselves so they sat side by side, knees knocking together as they leant over to pick and choose what they wanted. 

The room quickly filled with the delicious aroma of spices, of samosa chaat, pau bhaji, daal and paneer tikka. Fena sat cross legged on the floor and Amy lounged lazily next to her. Michelle had her own food and sat at the mirror, still talking on her phone but now in a long overdue conversation with her teenage daughter, updating her on what had been going on and asking her about her school work. 

The band discussed their BBC Radio Scotland interview, all agreeing that it was a success and appropriately put across a good combination of information about the album and humour to, hopefully, engage the listeners enough to want to hear more. Katya wasn’t very good at thinking in that kind of way but she prided herself on knowing her existing fans and what they appreciated, if nothing else. “Don’t you think Vic kind of singled me and Trixie out a bit though?” She queried, not completely displeased by it but a little on edge.

“I think he’d properly looked into us and our fanbase and drew his conclusions from that. I don’t think it was unfounded.” Fena replied with a mouthful of rice, her beer’s condensation pooling onto the carpet. 

“I’m just glad I got a break from talking for a bit. I thought I was gonna throw up at one point.” Amy scrunched her nose before snapping a poppadom into thirds and dipping one in some gloopy mango chutney. 

They finished their meal and, when Michelle had hung up her call and told them to get a move on, started to get ready. They’d all taken their showers on the bus in the morning in an attempt to wake themselves up and feel at least a little less grim. Trixie and Amy started on their makeup and Katya went with Fena for a smoke in the alleyway. 

“Don’t start worrying about the whole ‘Trixie and Katya’ thing.” Fena said, preemptively, exhaling. 

“I’m not, I just don’t want to it to come across as us and you and Amy - a division. We’re a unit, all of us.”

“We are. But so are you and Trixie, and that’s ok. Amy and I have discussed it many, _many_ times. It’s all good.” 

Katya didn’t quite know what to make of that and didn’t want to analyse it before the show and get all worked up. She nodded, finished her cigarette then went back inside to wiggle into her bodysuit and do her trademark smoky eye and red lip to keep herself distracted. 

At the mirror, Trixie’s eyes snapped towards her. “You alright?” She asked, contour sharp and defined, as she brushed her setting powder off her face.

“Yeah, baby, all good.” She shuffled over to Trixie, who was knelt on the only chair so she could properly see, and draped herself over her back, pressing a kiss to where her neck met her shoulder, a reassurance. “Going with the blue eyeshadow tonight?” It wasn’t a diversion tactic, exactly, but she didn’t want to dwell on herself. She motioned towards Trixie’s palette so Trixie looked at it instead of her.

“Want me to do some on you too?”

“Maybe tomorrow.” She kissed her again, needing some of Trixie’s affection to stop her from thinking about whether they were truly exceptional to the others (which amused her as it was really rather ironic). They were fine, everything was fine, some random radio presenter asking an innocuous question didn’t intend to instill a crisis and Katya understood herself enough to identify that this was her anxiety clawing at her brain, nothing more. Katya loved her three best ladies - one of her biggest fears was losing them. She’d come close before and each day she gave thanks to a god she didn’t believe in because it was a miracle that they loved her unconditionally, didn’t want to be apart from her either.

Fena blasted Madame X to get them “in the mood” and the drinks began to flow. Katya downed two red bulls as their opening act took to the stage and tore into a bag of jelly snakes. The four of them did their silliest dances to Batuka, Amy’s giggles filling the room alongside the tribal beats of a so-called “underappreciated piece of music” (Fena’s words, certainly not Katya’s). Fena was finally convinced to put Erotica on instead and the sensual bass line and breathy vocals of the title track, along with several vodka shots, loosened them all up. Katya and Amy managed to coordinate their not-so-secret handshake routine with the beat of the song and Katya cackled at their ingenuity.

Once they got their five minute warning and their opening act (a male and female post-punk duo, both blonde, both effeminate in a part Romantic, part gothic kind of way) had come in to have a drink with them, they raised a glass to themselves, cheered and made any last minute touch ups to their looks. Katya only just remembered to spit her gum out as she went through the door. Holding hands with Trixie, she trailed along the corridor to the side stage. Her veins practically fizzed with adrenaline, heart rate quickening by the second. Then: the silence, the screaming.

She ran onto the stage alongside Trixie, waving and pointing to fans who were trying to get her attention. With her bass, she felt at home, like it was an extension of her physical body and mental imaginings. During their intro, she stamped her heels into the ground as if she wanted to leave a permanent imprint, a sign that she was there, living and breathing and excelling in that very space. She swung her hips from side to side, not noticing or caring that her bass kept hitting her protruding bones. All the many rhinestones on her outfit glinted in the spotlight, reflected onto the wall nearest to her, made her feel like the centre of the universe, like she was the stars and the atoms and fibres that both created and amazed her. 

And there was Trixie, shimmying towards Fena, laughing at a gesture she’d made with her stick, winding her spellbinding melody.

The initial few songs managed to be even better than the previous night, to Katya’s disbelief. The sound system was good, admittedly, but now the extra first show concerns were no longer applicable, Contact could fully flourish and enjoy themselves. Before their Dolly Parton medley (which the crowd went positively feral for), they took the time to introduce themselves and have a bit of banter.

“Hi,” Trixie started them off, “I’m the illegal pedicurist who got ingrown _nailed_ by the fuzz, Trixie Mattel.”

Katya couldn’t quite yet begin hers, too busy slapping her knees and laughing with her mouth wide open, just close enough to the mic for the crowd to hear her and join in too. “Sorry…” She composed herself, “And I’m a hot slut ready to take herself on a stroll through the woods - Katya!” The audience went wild, cheering and raising their arms in the air. “On keys and a ripe selection of bones is one very healthy looking woman, Amy!” Katya announced to more applause. 

“And finally, the glue that holds our decorative statute of Satan together, Fena on drums, everybody!” Trixie exclaimed, adjusting her pink Fender Mustang and tapping a few of her pedals, her white cowboy boots finishing off her total-country-gal outfit. 

The fifth track of their set, the one they’d altered earlier that day, began with Amy playing one continuous note, cello-like and steady. The first verse was bare. Trixie’s vocals, which came in after a few bars, and Fena’s drum samples were both raw and subtly effective together. Trixie took her mic off its stand, unravelling the wire that got caught as she sang, and flipped her guitar round to rest at her back. She made her way over to where Katya was stood waiting for her, hungrily staring into her eyes to embody the lyrics coming from her plump pink lips. Katya took deep breaths, chest heaving as Trixie’s face came as close to hers as it could without crushing their noses. She felt Trixie’s words land on her cheek, noted the sweat starting to drip from her temples, and lost herself in the alluring brown of Trixie’s irises. 

When Trixie raised her voice and Fena brought down her sticks to her floor tom for the first time, creating a booming thud, Katya jolted back dramatically, only to be immediately pulled into Trixie’s body once more. Katya wasn’t playing yet, kept her grip over her fretboard, her other hand grasping Trixie’s shoulder for balance. Trixie repeated her line, another thud echoed out into the eager crowd and Trixie brought their foreheads to touch, never breaking eye contact. She sang the first chorus like that before Katya had to step back to position her fingers and start playing her bass line. It mimicked her heartbeat, persistent and strong, as well as Fena’s bass drum so their two parts almost melded.

Katya turned to the audience, could barely see for the blinding lights and the blood rushing around her body. Closing her eyes, she felt Trixie behind her, trailing a hand up her back and into her hair to grip the strands at the base of her skull, tilting her head to the side so she could sing directly into her ear. Katya got goosebumps. Trixie’s vocals were out of this world. As the second chorus came around, Amy’s synth changed to sound more like a higher pitched organ, joining Fena hitting the entire round of her kit continuously, the song rounding out more and more as Trixie’s voice got louder too. Katya’s bassline didn’t change much, only reaching some higher notes as Trixie repeated her lines over and over for effect.

Then, Trixie stepped back from her, leaving her bereft, back to her mic stand. She brought her guitar to her front again and Katya watched her intently, not being able to resist stomping towards her as they both started to play their solo riffs, like she was captured and couldn’t get free. 

Katya had backing vocals in this song. She wasn’t anywhere near as good as Trixie but she could deftly balance between shouting and providing edgy harmonies every now and then, to reinforce a certain mood. Trixie’s lips pressed against the mic as she looked down to her pickups whilst she sang and Katya leant in to Trixie’s side as best she could with two instruments between them so she could share her mic. Katya’s lipstick mixed with Trixie’s on the grill and Katya thought it would make for a stunning photo later, to commemorate a performance she would never forget. They both turned to properly face each other and delve into their second solo. For the last six bars of the song they paced back and forth like they were in a dual, like they held each other’s heart and didn’t realise they didn’t want to claim it back.

\- 

It wasn’t raining, luckily. Katya had changed into some skinny jeans and thrown on an oversized black hoodie with the Russian word for pussy emblazoned across the front, and walked out to exit the building and greet the group waiting for Contact. Michelle had allocated twenty minutes for them to have a chat with the boisterous fans who, this time, seemed younger in age, and to take some pictures. Trixie and Amy were already out there, still in the same outfits from the show, and Fena had waited for Katya so she wasn’t left alone. 

Whilst Katya had been packing her stuff away, Fena had looked up potential gay bars in the city centre and had requested that they go to Polo Lounge as it had seemed like one of the most recommended. Michelle agreed for the coach to pick them up there at half one, once more threatening to leave anyone behind if they weren’t on time, and shooed them away.

Katya was good at talking to people. When she was on the job, she made sure to pay close attention to whoever she was conversing with, asked questions about their lives and gave them her trademark megawatt smile to round off the whole package deal. She was still running on the high of performing and thus a little fidgety, but she knew that that just gave her extra charm in the eyes of her admirers. The fans were sweet, talked over each other and laughed at her jokes, some even giving her some gifts they’d made - a selection of earrings and a necklace with baby dolls heads on it. The time passed in the blink of an eye and, soon enough, Fena was signalling for them to get going. 

They didn’t invite anyone else along that night, just wanting to have a drink together as a band and nothing more rowdy. As it was a twenty minute walk to the bar, they all stopped off at the Tesco Metro on Sauchiehall Street to get some cans to drink on the way. Katya bought two Irn Bru “because when in Scotland…” and passed her bottle to Trixie for her to try. Katya thought it tasted just like bubble gum yet Trixie deemed it the same as drinking piss. “How do you know what piss tastes like?” Katya exclaimed, to the amusement of the others.

Trixie pinched her nostrils in the way she did when either she heard something disgusting or was about to disclose something disgusting. “Once, I was on a long drive so I had to pee and I managed to aim it really well into a Gatorade bottle ‘cause I couldn’t get out of the car. Hours later, reached for the bottle completely forgetting there was piss in there.”

“Oh my god.” Katya wheeze-laughed, Fena and Amy in fits too. “You make out I’m the dirty bitch and then you go and tell a story like that, you rotted piece of shit.”

Trixie cackled and barely stumbled when Katya launched herself into her, grabbing her around the waist and lovingly squeezing her spare tire. Katya had a bit of a fascination with Trixie’s stomach. It was so unlike her own that she found an inexplicable comfort in it, and Trixie somehow didn’t get annoyed by her roaming hands. Gripping onto her cute rolls of fat had become an unbreakable habit before Katya had even realised. 

They’d finished and binned their tinnies by the time they rounded the corner onto Wilson Street. There wasn’t a queue to get into Polo Lounge so the four of them headed straight in, up the steps and through the rather grand doors. The bar was quite a contrast to Jimmy’s, spacious with art nouveau lights hanging from the ceiling and mahogany panelling accenting the walls alongside framed artwork and candlestick holders. They explored the perimetres together, finding the dancefloor and a range of tongue-in-cheek signs. The rainbow neon which read ‘smile, laugh, talk, drink, dance, eat ass’ was Katya’s favourite and Amy took photos of her for her Instagram, giggling as she recorded a video showing Katya sticking her butt out. 

Trixie got their drinks and met them up in the mezzanine, where they’d managed to blag a table. “Slàinte mhath!” They yelled in unison, in their best approximation of a Scottish accent, when Trixie plonked down in the seat next to Katya. Her vodka lemonade was a double, apparently, and sure tasted like it too. Katya watched Trixie try not to wince as she gulped it down.

“I think we’ve had another fucking successful show, right?” Amy asked, drink already gone, clearly in the mood to celebrate. 

“I don’t think a crowd has ever cheered as much as they did tonight.” Fena agreed.

Trixie exclaimed. “And there were fewer of them than in Manchester!” Finishing her drink, she slammed her glass down and slung her arm around Katya’s shoulders. 

“It was incredible.” Katya said. “Everyone kind of blurred into one, y’know? It was just this wide, open sea of constant background noise. The girls who gave me the necklace travelled from the Shetlands to see us, by the way, did they tell you? I think I’d go even more nuts than I already am if I lived there.”

“I’m sure it’s not like Shutter Island or something.” Trixie laughed at her own joke. 

“Well, I’m definitely up for coming back here. Drinks are good, people are batshit, what more could I want?” Fena finished off her beer in record time.

“A hot, tartan-wearing lady to run away with to a riverside cabin for a whirlwind weekend romance?” Katya cheekily suggested with an overly obvious wink. 

“Clearly you’ve thought about that!” Fena retorted.

“You got me there, bitch, you got me there.” Katya grinned and kicked her playfully under the table. 

“We’re here to work, you horny fucks.” Trixie rolled her eyes. If it weren’t for how well she knew Trixie, she would have missed the element of seriousness to her countenance like the others did, too busy retorting with profanities. Whatever had hit a nerve, Katya tried to ease away as she took Trixie’s arm off her shoulder so she could hold her hand instead, massaging her palm and studying the calluses on the tips of her fingers. 

Amy and Fena decided that was the right time to get more drinks and “check out the tartan-wearing ladies”. Katya huffed a laugh and wished them luck before turning her body into Trixie’s, flipping her hand over and inspecting her pale pink manicure. “I’m impressed - no chips.” Trixie was still in a bit of a sulk, Katya could tell. Lauding her nails was Katya’s subtle first attempt to bring her out of it, her testing of the waters to determine if she’d have to go further. When she got no reply, she gave Trixie the once over and assuaged her with her best guess about what was bothering her. “I’m not planning to sleep with anyone on tour, I know you hate that, so stop all this right now.”

Trixie sighed. “You make me sound like a total killjoy—”

“You are, you cunt.” Katya japed.

“I just…Don’t want to be distracted. This is _it_ for us, y’know?” Trixie’s vulnerability softened Katya instantly. She would readily admit that Trixie yearned for success and a proper music career way more than she did. And she wanted it - badly. Trixie’s determination was on another level and Katya would rather die than be the person to get in the way somehow. 

“Look at me.” Katya demanded, taking Trixie’s face in her sweaty hands. Their gazes met. “We’re working hard, we’re playing hard and I’m with you on that. All of it.” 

“Sorry.” Trixie mumbled, not looking away so Katya could pick up on her sincerity. Katya nodded. All was forgiven. Always. Trixie puckered her lips, leant in to give Katya a quick peck and a reassuring smile.

“If you walk in on me dry humping my bass, though, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

By the time Fena and Amy had returned, laden with shots and other unidentifiable liquids on a tray, Trixie had pushed her chair adjacent to Katya’s and had her legs resting on Katya’s lap. Katya still had half of her diet coke so when Amy suggested a drinking game - which was basically a test of who could drink the fastest (Fena) and who could drink the strangest concoction (Trixie) - she wasn’t left out. 

Katya quite liked how noisy the others got when they were hammered. Katya didn’t have a particularly loud voice, nor did Amy, but Trixie sure did and Fena could positively growl when she wanted (and needed) to. She found a unique peace in their rowdiness, like it reinforced that they were beside her, nowhere else. She watched on as their movements got sloppier, as they tipped their heads back like that would help their drink go down easier, and the range of their grimaces. In times like these, she didn’t need to think of alcohol in the way she did when she was being Katya The Former Addict, she could simply view it as that thing that made people funny.

There was an unmentioned agreement within the band to never drink during writing or recording, and to never drink so much on tour that anyone’s safety was compromised, which included passing out. It meant that Trixie, Amy and Fena had to be precisely attuned to their body and its limits, and that Katya had to turn a blind eye to the fact that there had been a discussion between them at some point to determine just what was and wasn’t to be done around her. She was in two minds about it all. She didn’t want anyone to feel like they had to walk on eggshells. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be with anyone who didn’t accept and understand her condition. Ultimately, it would have been mortifying if they’d have voiced their plans to her, so Katya was resigned to being happy with the arrangement they had going on. She’d never say it, though. It had to be equal, in that respect. 

“We should be totally lame and play Never Have I Ever.” Amy suggested, stealing a quick glance at Fena, who gave her eager approval. 

“We all know who’s going to end up drinking the most for this and it’s the one person not drinking.” Trixie whined. “Let’s play something else.”

“Nope!” Amy interjected. “It’s been decided now.” 

Trixie tried to huff but ended up spitting onto Katya’s jeans instead. 

“Thanks for that, it’s not enough that I’m your personal leg rest, you have to practically defecate on me too?” 

“You’re my bitch.” Trixie laughed, breathy and high pitched. Fena mumbled something to Amy but Katya couldn’t catch it and Amy giggled and nodded so insistently that Katya’s curiosity piqued more than it had all day. Before she could ask, Trixie clumsily rearranged herself, taking her legs off of Katya and, instead, leaning forward to wipe the spit off her jeans. That it had landed near Katya’s crotch didn’t seem to bother her and Katya cackled at the image of Trixie under her chin, vision bleary and limbs floppy, going cross eyed as she studied the little damp patch just to the side of her zipper.

Once Trixie deemed the situation properly taken care of, she pushed herself up and lazily rested her head on Katya’s shoulder.

“Right, who’s starting?” Amy bounced in her seat.

“You, you suggested it so you have to go first.” Fena said.

“Ok. Let me think…” She paused for effect, her thin and meticulously shaped eyebrows pushed together as if she was solving a complex algebra equation. “Never have I ever: written a song about an ex.”

“Oh fuck you, fuck you!” Trixie shrieked before downing a shot and bringing her glass back to the table with such force that Katya was baffled by how it didn’t smash. 

“You should have said an _entire EP_ and that would still have been applicable.” Fena added, smirking. 

“Hey, I wrote a song on there!” Katya protested. 

“And it’s the only one not about ‘loving someone but it just not working and you don’t know why’.” Fena quoted what Trixie had peddled in interviews with a playful grin and Trixie crossed her arms defensively, as well as she could do so inebriated. 

“Fine.” Trixie acquiesced. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about Pearl. So. My turn. Never have I ever…” Trixie aimed hers at Fena to get back at her and Katya cheered on the friendly sparring match that unfolded between them. 

The night continued in the same vein, acerbic comments flying back and forth and Trixie, Fena and Amy getting completely pissed until they were the only ones left in the bar apart from the staff. It was a Tuesday night, to be fair. 

“Last one!” Amy exclaimed. Fena had checked the time and announced they had five minutes left. “Let’s make it a good one. Alriiiiight.” She slurred adorably. “Never have I ever...fantasised about a friend recently.” 

Katya drank the final drops of her coke and noticed how Trixie took her last shot too. Strange, Katya thought, as Trixie had been resolutely single and seemingly uninterested in anything like that since her split with Pearl over a year ago. She was simultaneously intrigued and hurt that Trixie hadn’t mentioned anything to her. They used to be very open about those kinds of things. However, now she came to think about it, all had been quiet on that front for the both of them for a while. She supposed their careers, writing, touring, networking and getting themselves out there had taken up all their faculties.

Katya wouldn’t admit it to anyone, though perhaps she would to Trixie if she asked, that she’d had a fleeting thought about Trixie naked. She hadn’t had sex in a _very_ long time and had walked in on Trixie in their AirBnB bathroom a couple of weeks ago. Katya pranced around topless all the time but Trixie wasn’t that way inclined, so she reasoned that seeing Trixie, bare and unsuspecting, had surprised her and caught her off guard. They’d been spending so much time together as a band that Katya didn’t have the capacity to think of anything else.

“_Interesting_.” Fena said before rounding them up and sending them on their way, out to the bus which was parked up a side street. Trixie was bladdered. Katya held onto her.

Michelle was already in her bunk when they stumbled in. Naomi and Shea were taking their makeup off and having one last drink, lounging in the small seating area and watching a reality show Katya wasn’t familiar with. Trixie went straight to the bathroom to throw up and brush her teeth and Katya got undressed by her bunk. She tried not to think of Trixie taking that final shot, of why she hadn’t said anything to Katya. Were they not as close anymore? Was Katya so emotionally demanding that Trixie couldn’t get a word in? 

A thousand more similar questions flooded Katya’s mind, pressing on her temples and building pressure behind her eyes. Her breath quickened, came in stops and starts, and she broke out in a cold sweat. She recognised these signs, tried not to panic further for that very reason and sat down on the floor, hanging her head between her splayed open knees. She inhaled as deeply as she could, exhaled for two seconds longer and repeated until she felt more in control of her own body, like it was hers and not an alien vessel carrying her anxious heart. 

By the time the others were coming towards her, she was lying down, counting up to ten and then back from ten and breathing a lot more evenly. She had wound herself up over nothing, she knew. It was always the same. The knowledge didn’t make it any easier to prevent.

Trixie teetered gingerly up to Katya’s bunk. “Can I?” She asked, face shiny from where she’d somehow managed to do her whole skincare routine. 

“Of course.” Katya shifted aside and lifted up her duvet so Trixie could get in. 

She groaned as she got comfy. “Everything’s blurry. I’m so drunk, I’m so sorry. So sorry.” She slurred worse than Amy this time, the evening definitely catching up with her. 

Katya pulled her into her chest and shushed her, brushing her fingers through her hair, feeling it getting greasier. Trixie would notice straight away in the morning and wash her hair first thing, Katya thought with a smile at how well she knew her friend. It gave her some reprieve. “You’re good, baby, all good. I’ve got you.” She tightened her hold on Trixie, felt the steady rhythm of her pulse and the weight of her legs wrapped amongst her own. 

“That last game _destroyed_ me.”

Katya huffed a laugh into her hair, smelt the night on her. “Fena and Amy were definitely out to get you. Have you been pulling their hair and being mean and this was their payback?”

“Yeah I cut up all Amy’s nighties, slandered Madonna in front of Fena.” Trixie’s voice got deeper and quieter as she relaxed, as everyone around them settled into their bunks. 

“That explains it.” 

Trixie brought her hand up to rest on Katya’s rib cage, just under her left breast. Katya liked how large Trixie felt, how small she was in comparison. Trixie had once drunkenly called her her “tiny lady”. Katya had beamed all night after that. There wasn’t a drastic difference between them in height, but Trixie was a lot broader and more shapely and fuller. 

“Fuckers, bringing up Pearl.” Trixie mumbled.

“Were you actually bothered by it?”

“No, it’s just...I’ve moved on from all that but I hurt her so fucking badly. I still feel guilty sometimes.”

Katya wriggled so she was face to face with Trixie. She could barely make anything out in the dark and blindly (but thankfully accurately) reached out her hand and cupped Trixie’s cheek, stroking her thumb across it to soothe her. “You’re a good person. You couldn’t help it. It sucks but you’d be a total bitch if you didn’t feel at least a little remorseful still.” 

“Yeah.” Trixie sighed. “I want to draw a line under it all though.”

“Kinda hard when it’s captured in our songs, right?”

“Exactly!” Trixie hissed, so surprisingly loud that she made herself jolt. Katya tried not to wheeze-laugh, to no avail, when Fena told them off.

“Well apparently you’ve been fantasising about someone new so…” Katya bravely teased, resolutely ignoring how her heart began to race, muscle memory from her mild panic attack before.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Katya could hear Trixie smirk. Trixie tapped on Katya’s shoulder, wanting her to turn around so she could spoon her, their shared language an understanding deeper than words. Katya rolled over and closed her eyes, the heat from Trixie’s body immediately seeping into her own, easing all worry from her. Katya felt her breasts squashed against her back, shivered when Trixie shoved her face into her neck and let out a long exhale. 

“Can’t say I’m not curious.” Katya murmured before stifling a yawn. An amusing contradiction.

“Mmm.” Katya felt the vibrations from Trixie’s throat against her skin. Trixie kissed her goodnight behind her ear and fell asleep holding Katya as firmly as she held her little secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the formatting is ok...using my parents computer to post (and it's wild, they have no adblock, for instance - who lives like this?!)


	3. Birmingham

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments so far :) I'm having the best time writing this. Here's more of our favourite gals being pals...

The following day, Michelle called for a meeting once everyone had finally risen. She was kind and scheduled it from the comfort of their tour bus and at one o’clock in the afternoon to give the band enough time to properly come round after their night out. Katya had gotten up at a reasonable hour and had done as much Ashtanga as she could in the cramped lounge area to keep her mind occupied by movement instead of worry. There was no suitable cause for her anxiety and she reasoned with herself that it was normal for Michelle to run things over with them as it was midweek and, most obviously, part of her role. 

Once Katya had completed her routine, showered and dressed for the day in her trusty black leggings and her hoodie from the night before, Trixie got up and dashed to the fridge to ingest a couple of bottles of water at the speed of light. Katya sat with Shea, Naomi and Michelle, who were all tapping away on their phones, whilst Trixie went about the place trying to pull herself together, all the while groaning and complaining that she was getting “too old for this.”

Katya sent a few messages to her family and a couple of her friends. Jason was just off to host a fitness retreat in Palm Springs and was sending her selfies and boomerangs of him and his boyfriend in their tight trunks and videos of the place they had rented, its pool large and sparkling in the sun. It didn’t make her miss LA but she was jealous of their tans and the cloudless skies behind countless palm trees. Sometimes, a small part of her envied their relationship too. She quashed those thoughts whenever they arose.

Trixie came to lie down next to Katya so her head rested in her lap. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she had on a face mask that made her look downright terrifying. Katya vehemently hated it whenever she did one, lamenting how it made her look like Hannibal Lecter. They both scrolled Twitter and Instagram, showing each other funny memes fans had made, and replied to a few comments and questions, tittering at the responses they were coming up with. Trixie was a lot more meticulous with her social media use than Katya. She tracked her tag on Tumblr and knew the most popular fan accounts on every main platform. She would regularly update Katya on what she’d noticed and Katya appreciated not having to do it herself, would never be that thorough or knowledgeable enough to know what to keep an eye out for. 

Trixie’s brows furrowed in concentration and Katya put her phone down, content with watching her and trying to remain relaxed as the rest of the band shuffled in to congregate, ready for Michelle to begin. Katya expected Trixie to summarise what was happening online but, even when they had some spare time as Michelle was finishing off her correspondence, she remained silent. Katya struck up a conversation with the others instead and tried not to keep glancing Trixie’s way too much.

“Right everyone,” Michelle suddenly began with a clap, “I’ve just heard from Ru and, first of all, he’s pleased with how everything is going so far. Keep it up. It seems like your streams are continually increasing as the tour progresses, Contact’s Instagram is gaining hundreds of followers each day and your ticket sales are close to selling out every date, if they haven’t already. There are a few points I need to get through so get comfy and Katya, honey, calm down ‘cause there are no problems, I promise.” 

Katya hadn’t even realised her expression was betraying her. She shifted in her seat, met Michelle’s gaze as confidently as she could muster and smiled when Trixie looked up at her to exclaim, “Ooh girl, you got called _out_.”

Katya playfully swiped at Trixie’s head and faced Michelle again, trying her best to listen and not to think about how much of a funny fucking fool Trixie was. 

“So, I’m gonna run through the plan for the rest of the week. As you know, you’ve no press today. Tomorrow, in Brighton, you have a couple of filmed interviews to do for the YouTube channel which will be uploaded in succession in the build up to the video for Yellow Cloud being made live on Friday. I’ve got the questions we want covered here so I’ll give those to you to look over before soundcheck. There’ll be a few PR packages being delivered to the venue tomorrow and I’ve agreed with the brands that, Trixie, you’ll do an unboxing of them on the band’s Insta stories. It’s all clothing so I’m happy with you just posting photos if that’s easier. Whatever, you can choose. Amy, could you help with that if you have a moment?”

“Sure.” She said, face lighting up at the prospect of new stuff. Getting things for free was still a novelty for all of them. 

“On Friday, it’s a busy day so there’ll be no going out on the town tomorrow night. I’m aiming for us to be at Maida Vale by ten and the folks at Radio 1 estimated it’ll all take about two hours. They’ll be filming parts of the session but haven’t decided yet whether the footage will be uploaded in its entirety on YouTube or if it’ll just be Yellow Cloud. I’m betting it’s the latter. From Maida Vale, you’ll go straight to the venue for soundcheck. We’re going to start advertising a ticketed after party at a pub in Dalston in the next couple of hours. There’s a limited guest list so if there’s anyone you want to invite along, let me know ASAP.” 

Michelle paused and looked up from her notes to let everyone take in the onslaught of information. Katya had already completely lost it and was relying on Trixie to remind her of everything later in more manageable chunks. She took a deep breath to refocus her attention back to what Michelle was telling them. 

“I’ll talk about Saturday nearer the time.” 

“Thank god, Katya’s gonna have an aneurysm if you carry on like that.” Fena quipped. 

“_Thank you_.” Michelle said, warningingly, letting out an affectionate yet nonetheless long suffering sigh. The majority of the rest of the meeting was taken up with general business and budget talk. “Right, I appreciate your attention, ladies. I just want a quick word with Trixie and Katya but the rest of you are free to go. Fena, can you be a doll and grab me some lunch?” 

The others barged out and Trixie sat up, wrapping her arm around Katya’s waist and stroking her side, giving her something to fixate on whilst her heart hammered and palms sweated profusely. Michelle’s earlier attempt to reassure her wasn’t really working. But that wasn’t her fault. Michelle turned over the page of her notebook and Katya squinted to try and see what was written there, to no avail.

“I wanted to talk to you two in particular because Ru has some ideas. You both have the best social media engagement, the largest followings and - I’m going to be blunt and say this, not to discredit the others but because it’s how it is - you are the reason the band is gaining a lot of fans. LGBT fans, especially. You’ll have seen the kind of comments you get, for example, and I’m sure I don’t have to explain it. Basically, Ru wants you to…” Michelle chose her next words carefully. “Play up to it.”

“So you want us to act gayer than we already are? Achievable goals please, Michelle.” Trixie scoffed.

Michelle simply quirked her right eyebrow in response.

“Isn’t this a bit manipulative? Doing whatever it takes to get that pink dollar?” Trixie asked then. Katya was mulling over and formulating her own opinions, letting Trixie talk hers out first. 

“I wouldn’t ever make you do something you weren’t on board with, but I am going to push you because that’s my job. Showing your relationship with each other, being yourselves with each other and emphasising it isn’t manipulating anyone. It’s giving the fans what they want, it’s no skin off your nose and if the past few days has shown us anything, it’s that all you’ll need is to do what you already do anyway and people will eat it up. You’ll be unrestrained. You can cuddle up in interviews like you always do on the tour bus and share with the world that unique humour you possess because that’s such a special thing you have with each other. And it makes others feel good. Do you see where I’m coming from?”

Trixie nodded, scratching the back of her neck, eyes fixed on the table. Katya couldn’t catch her gaze and she understood that Trixie was being elusive in that respect on purpose, to give Katya her space to process, to prevent Katya perhaps jumping into something straight away because she thought it would be what Trixie wanted. She had a tendency to get deeply unnerved whenever something important between them didn’t align. 

“Katya?” Michelle prompted. She was on a strict timescale.

“I’m fine with it but I want to be certain of the...conditions, I guess. We’ve never explicitly stated that we’re lesbians. I would like to, at some point but now I’m not sure how to navigate all that without it becoming entangled with this new…” She trailed off, waving her hand in the air to indicate. 

“I don’t think Ru wants you to make any kind of grand statements just yet. Just keep it about you and Trixie for now, it’ll be simpler like that. Let’s see what happens once the single is out.”

Once Michelle had left, Katya turned to face Trixie, legs folded in lotus position. Trixie mirrored her as best she could, making Katya laugh when she couldn’t get her feet in the right place to break the tension that had overtaken their surroundings. 

“I can see the cogs turning.” Trixie knocked on the crown of Katya’s head. “Talk to me.”

“It’s like…” Katya sighed. “I get what Michelle’s saying and it’s not such an awful demand for us to _be_ us when I know other artists, whatever, are expected to do some tiring or horrible shit, or even get taken advantage of or get trapped into things with no way out - we’re in an industry still rife with misogyny and labels and companies screwing specifically female musicians over. This isn’t that, so I can’t complain. It’d also feel like an insult to you if I was moaning about being affectionate or sexual with you, like, what? That makes no sense. I guess it’s just an unusual situation to be in, being asked to do something just to get more attention.” She smirked, then. “Usually I just take a load of meth and that gets everyone’s eyes on me.”

Trixie scream-laughed and Katya was so deeply relieved that they were at a point post-active addiction where they could joke about it without wondering whether doing so would bring back the gut-wrenching feelings they had during those times. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want you to think any of my issues with this was about being perceived to be involved with you.” Trixie said, sincerely, her eyebrows uplifting as she looked at Katya. Katya didn’t know what it was about that particular expression, that determination to convey her honest truth, that knocked the breath out of her, but it did. They sat together, silent, for a few moments. The air seemed thick but Katya couldn’t identify what was present between them. 

“It’s just strange to be put in this position.” Katya concluded, voice low as if speaking louder would change something, knock them off kilter.

“If it gets too much or too weird with the fans, I know Michelle would have our backs and negotiate something with Ru. She’s always fought our corner before and, yeah she had to tow the label line here, but she’s a bossy broad. She wouldn’t take shit from anyone else if she had to put a stop to it for us.” 

“I know.” Katya smiled at how much faith Trixie had in other people. It made her want to be someone Trixie could rely on, despite how unreliable she was. 

“We can definitely have a lot of fun with this, though.” Trixie gave her a cheeky grin, like she was thinking up some ideas already.

Katya took out her phone to get started on her side of the bargain, the playful competitiveness in her wanting to beat Trixie to it. Opening Twitter and composing a tweet to send straight away, she waited for Trixie’s reaction.

“‘I want your whole chunky ass inside me.’” Trixie read aloud, voice as monotonous as she could make it. “Wow, you’re really giving the people what they want there, aren’t you?” 

Katya checked her notifications, watching as the likes and the replies of keyboard smashes and exclamation marks came in. “It appears I am.” She showed Trixie her screen, smug and proud when Trixie’s eyes widened.

“Fuck,” Trixie cackled. “Ok, you win this one, bitch. Just you wait, I’ll get one up on you.”

“Ooh, will you now?” 

The pair broke into fits of laughter all over again and only stopped their exchange of progressively filthier innuendos when Fena came back with lunch for everyone. They set up a cute picnic style situation to eat on their bus before finally getting off to scope out the venue and get ready for soundcheck. 

The others hadn’t mentioned Michelle’s special meeting with Trixie and Katya during lunch and Katya supposed they were waiting to be told voluntarily. Katya didn’t want to think about it all too much then, understanding that she’d become too preoccupied with churning over the pros and cons of Ru’s instruction to get into the proper headspace for performing. She was already holding a lot, what with Trixie confessing she had been thinking about someone sexually without telling her and all the other niggles she experienced in the day to day as a person with an anxiety disorder. She figured that at some point it was going to all get too much and she’d have an episode but, for now, she was preferring to bury her head in the sand. It was easier. That’s what she told herself anyway. Old habits were hard to break. 

Their dressing room soon filled with explosions of clothing and makeup and hair styling products. Fena had bought an extra large pack of beers which were apparently on offer and had also scoped out a non-alcoholic cider from Tesco for Katya to try later. She’d stocked up on cigarettes and brought out the baggie of weed for Katya too, if she wanted it. 

Michelle was off somewhere doing god knows what so they had time to go over what had been said in their meeting. It was then that Trixie leant over to whisper in Katya’s ear, asking her if she was alright to disclose what their new situation was. Katya nodded readily, mouth too full of sushi to talk, glad for Trixie to breach it so she wouldn’t have to think about her wording or her moral conundrums. She was relieved she had Trixie to explain, like she was the spokesperson for the both of them. 

“You don’t feel like you’re being used, right? You’ll be groping each other for - not shock value, but to cause a bit more of a stir. Isn’t that kinda outdated and insulting, like lesbianism is a performance for tantalisation?” Amy asked, heckles raised because, as a bisexual Asian woman, she had too many bad experiences of being fetishised for who she was. 

“I thought something similar initially, but is it applicable when the majority of our fans are female?” Trixie said. 

“And Ru is a gay man. It’s not like he’s pulling the padge over the thought of us kissing.” Katya added, listening to Trixie’s words instead of fussing over what she herself might say, what internal dialogue she might have if she were left alone with her thoughts for too long.

“Yeah I get that, and obviously I’m not judging you or assuming you haven’t thought it all through.” 

Katya and Trixie sandwiched Amy in a casual side hug. “Bitch, we know. We want your advice regardless of how much we’ve discussed it. Just because we’ve thought something through doesn’t mean we’ll make a good decision. Katya thought cutting her own bangs was perfectly acceptable and look where that got her.” 

Katya wheeze-laughed into Amy’s neon yellow hair, piled high into a 90s style up do. “It got me looking like a fierce, nonchalant, funky witch fantasy!” She screeched before breaking out her ‘model poses’.

“Sure, Jan.” Trixie intoned. 

“When you think about it,” Fena brought their conversation back, “Being wank fodder to a load of gay or bi women isn’t a hard life is it?” 

Amy giggled. “Now I’m kinda jealous I’ve not been selected for this!” 

“God, me too. Let’s start our own faction within the band and out-gay the infamous ‘Trixya’.” 

“Not possible!” The both of them yelled at Fena at exactly the same time. Eerie. 

“No, you’re right, that just proved it. Holy shit.” Fena said, shaking her head in defeat. 

Trixie dabbed the wrong way round, the way she did when she wanted to elicit an uproar from the crowd. 

Before Fena had chance to smack her in jest, instead settling for glaring daggers in her general direction, they were called to the stage for soundcheck by Naomi. Saved by the bell, Katya smirked to herself. 

Mostly, things ran smoothly. Amy’s Ableton kept crashing at one point but the good old trick of turning her Mac off and on again eventually sorted it out, and Fena’s hi-hat wouldn’t screw on properly so one of the venue’s crew members had to fix it. Minor inconveniences - they’d experienced much worse in the past with no outside help. Katya thought herself in a pretty privileged position and that thought kept her from spiralling into doubt for the rest of the night.

Back in their dressing room, Katya headed straight for the weed. She stepped outside to roll a joint and light up and inhaled as deeply as she could during her first puff, feeling bitter warmth fill her lungs. She held her breath for a few seconds, imagining the chemicals floating inside her, expanding her chest until she couldn’t last any longer, exhaling and tracking the projections of smoke up and outwards into the surrounding air. 

She was just about keeping it together. She put her mind to their upcoming show, how she could do whatever she pleased on that stage and it would be lapped up, reviewed, filmed and posted with praising captions. She imagined how far she could get with Trixie, knew that she wouldn’t bat a painted eyelid at casual touches, caresses down her side or the insistent press of their faces together. Wouldn’t think twice about giving it as good as she could get. Ru wanted more from them and Katya got a thrill from wondering just how much she get away with before it was deemed too much. 

The weed began to kick in, causing Katya’s muscles to relax and her posture to slump pleasantly. She leant against the brick wall and pictured Trixie under the glare of the spotlight, the hungry, sweating crowd screaming as she twirled, her already too short pink dress lifting up from the movement and giving just the tiniest of glimpses of her simple cotton underwear beneath her flesh coloured tights. She imagined herself watching her from the other side of the stage as they finished a song, marching towards her and crowding up against her as the audience got louder and louder, cheering them on; her bass pressing into the small of her back, her arm wrapping around her so her hand could spread out on her chest, her lips grazing her neck and the swirl of her earlobe.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Fena barging out of the door to join her in the alley, already with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. 

“You alright?” Fena asked, leaning beside Katya, softly bumping up against her.

“Yeah, just have a lot to think about. I want to get into my creative space, y’know? Instead of getting all twisted up about if this is the right thing to do.” 

Fena took a long drag, setting her bottle down by her foot. “I don’t think it’ll bring much of a change, to be honest. The fans will go wild, you’ll have fun. No one will get hurt if you communicate.” 

“What do you mean?” Katya had nearly finished her joint, she could feel the heat of it at her finger tips. 

“As long as you and Trixie are on the same page…” 

Katya frowned. “We normally are. Are we not right now? Has she said anything to you?”

“No, no.” Fena rushed to reassure. “She’s not said anything, don’t worry. Just keep it in mind.”

“Hmm.” Katya nodded, vision caught on a splat of bird shit on the ground. “Anyway, I wanted a joint tonight to get me back to thinking about our gig. This is all I’m having, I don’t want to risk anymore.”

Fena stared at her for a second like she was assessing the situation and must have seen what she was looking for. “Ok. I’ll take the rest, though.” It was better that way. Nothing that had happened that day was enough to push her to do something irrational but it was still sensible to remove any chance whatsoever. She was always in safe hands. 

The routine of putting her makeup on and getting ready further aided her in getting into the spirit. She and Amy danced around with their arms linked like they were at a barn dance and Trixie, after a couple of drinks, began singing Dixie Chicks at the top of her voice, a so called “warm up.” 

Katya’s eyes kept wandering Trixie’s way, partly to watch her routine (a little different that day as she used softer browns to buff out her eyeliner and white glitter to highlight and exaggerate her inner corner) and partly to convince herself that what Fena said was true, that they were on the same page. She needed to test it, to prove to herself. “I have another idea, once you’re done.” Katya said, letting a smirk play upon her face. 

Trixie turned towards her, the last dusts of eyeshadow on her blending brush. “Oh?” She quirked her drying brow, a Benefit gel setting its immaculate shape.

Katya positioned them how she had envisioned, Trixie bent over the table, ass sticking out, resting her weight on her forearms. Katya got up over her to straddle her, legs wide apart and knees digging painfully into the shitty wooden surface. Even if she weren’t so slight, she wouldn’t worry about breaking it, too intent on getting her shot. She arranged Trixie’s hair how she wanted it, over one shoulder and tousled like she’d been freshly fucked. Perhaps that was the implication she was going for, perhaps it was open to interpretation, which was even more conducive to getting their fans talking. 

She took a few mirror shots, changing the angle and placement of her phone every now and then so she could capture the lighting casting darker shadows underneath her prominent cheekbones. Trixie looked effortlessly sexy, like this was the kind of thing they did all the time and the viewer, the fans, were just walking in on an everyday moment between them. Her lips were parted slightly, overdrawn in her signature bright pink. Her lashes were thick and sultry and her short, yellow pinafore style dress rode up where Katya was sat on her. 

Katya matched Trixie’s expression, like she was letting out a soft, sensual breath. The muscles in her thighs were visible, her black layered chiffon dress cut away at her upper arms and she held the hem up at her hip so that it was clear her thighs were either side of Trixie’s waist. She wasn’t wearing a bra but the material wasn’t thin enough for anyone to be able to tell until she started jumping up and down. 

“Got it?” Trixie asked, beginning to shift.

Katya studied the photos she had taken and favourited her two best ones for Trixie to give her final opinion. “Yeah.” She clambered ungracefully off of Trixie and sat with her legs dangling off the edge of the table. She was yet to put her tights on so her feet were bare and cold. Trixie stood up and rubbed at her elbows. 

“Better be worth the bruises.” She joked.

Katya’s voice deepened, acting like a raunchy temptress. “Mama, it’s always worth the bruises.” 

Trixie laughed, loud and abruptly, causing Katya to join in too and slap her herself from the sheer force of her hysteria. She passed Trixie her phone for her to review the pictures.

“This one.” Trixie commanded. It was one that Katya hadn’t chosen because her face was a bit blurry from tilting her chin upwards. “Post it now.”

Katya took back her phone and opened her Instagram, ignoring the thousands of likes and comments she had been getting and pressing the little cross button straight away, adjusting the framing of the photo and thinking up her caption as she tagged Trixie and their location. “Done.” She announced with a flurry, incredibly pleased with herself for what she’d come out with. “Well, go check.” She was impatient for Trixie’s reaction. 

Trixie couldn’t even finish reading it aloud the first time for cracking up so much. “‘My pussy is eating _her_!’ AAAAH! You - you cunt! You despicable human being!” 

Katya grinned, bowed from where she was perched. “Think it’s safe to say that I am currently reigning champion in this whole Trixya extravaganza. You’re gonna have to pull out all the stops now.” 

“Just you wait, bitch.” 

-

“Hi, I’m the gal who’s not here for a long time but I am here for a good time - Trixie Mattel!”

“And I’m the visual depiction of untreated mental illness - Katya.” 

Another show, another indescribable energy, a vibrant crowd jumping in time and singing Contact’s lyrics back to them as ferociously as possible, the barrier jolting back and forth from the push of people against it. God, Katya could spend her entire life up on stage, prancing up to Amy when their synth and bass lines coordinated, bumping their hips together in time with Fena’s fierce drum beats. She would sell her soul, or at least one of her kidneys, to forever be able to pose behind Fena during one of her enlivening solos and draw the attention she deserved towards her like a perverted, whorish moth to a raging flame. And strutting alongside Trixie, pushing her body against hers and seeing the unfiltered joy that radiated from her as she got to do the thing she loved more than anything else, well, that was priceless.

She’d spent the rest of their time before the show watching Trixie and Amy post a series of videos on the band’s Insta stories, going through the packages of clothes that had been sent to them. Independent brands from across the UK had reached out to Michelle and she had accepted the offers of a few who seemed to both have a sizeable Instagram following and fit with at least part of the band’s aesthetic. Trixie made humorous comments whilst praising the quality of the material or the details which made the garments unique and suitable for them. Every now and then, Katya had shouted out opinions of her own, making Trixie laugh and, predictably, fans had lapped it up.

Their band introductions always had the audience howling and that night was a prime example. Trixie did Amy’s for a change and Katya did Fena’s, cracking them both up so much so that Fena actually spoke into her mic to praise her bandmates. Katya was on cloud nine. The adrenaline didn’t seem to want to slow down, speeding through her veins with more stamina than she could comprehend. Each song propelled her, her movements vigorous and wild. She stomped across every inch of the stage, keeping everyone on their toes as to where she’d end up next. At one point during their third track, which was, unbeknownst to fans yet, the opener of their new album, she jumped down and leant over the barrier into the crowd, hands immediately seeking her out, sweaty faces and bodies all crushed together as they tried to get close to her. 

Part of her extreme bout of excitement also arose from the anticipation of what Trixie had planned to do with her. Before, she wouldn’t think much about how she and Trixie interacted on stage, just going with the flow and whatever the mood determined, sometimes following Trixie’s lead, sometimes having Trixie follow hers. Either way, it was always organic. The expectation to _do something_ perhaps should have stilted their chemistry, the way they bounced off each other so naturally. It didn’t. Instead, it added a whole other layer to their rapport, a flirty one upmanship. 

Trixie had been relatively tame during their set so far, which only served to spike Katya’s interest. She had a feeling, however, that she would turn it the fuck out during their fifth song, the one that always brought them together, that led Trixie to sing about waiting for the object of her desire, of that person having complete control over her so she couldn’t ever break free, right at Katya, touching her in places that were irrefutably intimate to the cries of the crowd’s pleasure.

As Amy started to play the opening bars of the song, Trixie took her guitar off and rested it against a foldback monitor near her mic stand. That instantly caught Katya’s attention as she had never done it before, preferring to keep her guitar at her back if she wasn’t playing to save fussing about with her strap, which could potentially mess up her hair. Katya was rooted on the spot, body turned to her right so she could watch for whatever Trixie was about to throw her way. 

Trixie stepped slowly towards her, punctuating each line of the first verse. Once she was a foot in front of her, she dropped to the floor so she could kneel in between Katya’s spread legs. Katya wasn’t sure, didn’t have the capacity to think about herself for being so captivated, but the likelihood was that her mouth was totally agape, jaw practically unhinged as she was entranced by Trixie underneath her. Trixie looked up her dress and reached her hand out to grab Katya’s ankle. 

During the chorus, as Fena’s drum beats resounded in her chest, Katya held her breath - Trixie brought her hand up Katya’s leg, first to her knee, then to her thigh, further each time until she was lifting Katya’s hem up from the movement, her grip coming to rest where Katya’s hip bone jutted out. Katya could feel the heat of Trixie’s hand through her tights, wondered if the sensation would be more intense if her legs were bare. All the while, Trixie didn’t take her eyes off of Katya’s. They never broke their trance until Katya had to start playing. 

Then, Trixie stood, circling Katya as she sang to her. Katya closed her eyes, trying to focus on her rhythm whilst also being hyper sensitive to Trixie’s presence. During the second verse, Trixie came to stand at her right shoulder so the neck of Katya’s bass wouldn’t get in the way. Trixie leaned in to sing in Katya’s ear, her breath teasing her skin. Holding the mic with her right hand, she brought her left up to move Katya’s hair off of her neck and, when it wasn’t complying, she kept her grip, firm and suggestive, close to her roots, tugging salaciously so Katya couldn’t help but moan. 

It was a good job that playing this song was second nature to her by now, her mind completely occupied by what Trixie was doing to her. When Trixie pulled her hair again, Katya tipped her head back, exposing her throat to the audience and inviting Trixie to show them something more. Trixie would soon need to return to her guitar and therefore Katya thought it best to make the most of Trixie’s freedom of movement without it. 

Trixie pressed her chest up against her back, Katya’s head resting on her collarbone. She dragged her hand from possessively cupping her shoulder to gently squeeze at her throat, before trailing further down to her chest. Her fingers dipped under the neckline of Katya’s dress and Katya subconsciously held her breath, the possibility of Trixie touching her breasts in front of hundreds of people was the kind of performance she hadn’t known she would revel being a part of until then. Trixie’s fingers edged closer and closer towards her nipple. Katya made a show of rolling her eyes back into their sockets and parting her lips as if she was overcome. It wasn’t exactly all an act. She hadn’t been touched in such a long time. 

As Trixie began repeating her chorus lines, Katya knew it was time for them to break apart. Trixie retracted her hand and gently pushed her forwards, putting space between them and giving Katya a moment to pull herself together whilst she went to get her guitar sorted. 

Katya watched her begin to strum and obediently tread over to her so they could play their solos together. Katya brought herself back to back with Trixie. They both rested against each other’s shoulders, looking up at the ceiling, until the final part of their instrumental, where they paced back and forth, glaring at each other as if the only thing stopping them fucking right there and then was the presence of other people in the room. 

That’s what finished the crowd off. As the last notes of the song rang out, the earsplitting acclamations of the audience permeated Katya’s entire body. She was out of breath, like she had just had the best sex of her life, had been well and truly shagged to death for all to see and she couldn’t get enough. 

She went back to her section of the stage to adjust her pedals, ready for the next song. Katya crouched down, needing to ground herself to recover. Jesus Christ, she thought, averting her eyes from the applauding crowd, poor Pearl was missing out.

The rest of the gig passed by in a blur and Katya only came round as she ran along the corridor back to their dressing room, Trixie hot on her heels, the bounce of Amy’s hair vibrant and garish against the whites and greys of the walls. 

“Fucking hell!” Fena exclaimed as they all piled on top of each other on the floor, rolling around in celebration.

“How does this keep getting better and better?” Amy asked, disbelieving, smiling from ear to ear. She was on the top, starfished out across Trixie and Fena. Katya was mostly just on the floor, staring, unfocussedly, like she was being beamed up to a whole other planet.

“Well done, ladies!” Michelle came in with her glittery glasses perched on her nose. They had steamed up from the change in temperature. The main hall had gotten so hot that the walls had begun to drip with condensation, whereas the dressing room was just as they’d left it. “Security tells me there’s a big group of fans waiting at stage door already. They’re expecting a lot of people tonight. I think word has gotten around online about the past few dates and the weather is pretty decent so...I’ll let you celebrate here for a little bit and then you need to decide what to do.” 

Once Michelle had flitted out again, the four of them sat up blearily, wiping their faces and huffing out the last of their laughs.

“I don’t know about you, but that crowd gave it their fucking all. I think it’s only right that we go out there and say hi to each and every one of them, no matter how long it takes.” Trixie announced and Katya couldn’t help but feel her heart flourish, fill her ribcage until it was a wonder she didn’t explode. She admired Trixie so much. Other artists might have decided just to go out to give the fans a wave or select a few of them to take a couple of selfies with before leaving. Not Trixie. She was genuinely appreciative and, despite how tiring it might end up being, she would go out of her way to greet the people who actually made their tour happen.

It was even crazier outside than Katya imagined. Hoards of people cheered as Contact came out onto the road, the plain, brown bricked building behind them seeming entirely unlike the place that had hosted the incredible events of their night. Security, with their yellow hi-vis jackets and stern expressions, had put up a barrier and organised the crowd in a somewhat orderly fashion so there weren’t any health and safety risks.

Katya didn’t have a clue where to start, utmost of forty girls screaming her name at once. Trixie tugged at her elbow, told her to cover the left queue and she’d do the right and then they’d meet in the middle. Katya nodded and bounded over to a teenager with blonde bangs and red lips. “Hello, hi, how are you, hello, good evening!” She greeted, wheezing a laugh.

“Oh my god, hi! You were amazing, that was literally the best gig I’ve ever been to. You are so fucking funny, I can’t deal.” The girl word vomited and Katya pulled her in for a hug. 

“Thank you for coming.” She said. “Do you want a picture?”

“Yeah, is that alright?” The blonde asked politely. Katya was lucky to have such respectful fans, for the most part. Twitter nudes girl was an anomaly so far.

Katya made her way through countless women and groups of friends, received more compliments in an hour than she probably had over her entire lifetime and was given a selection of gifts ranging from quirky jewelry to traditional British sweets. She glanced over at Trixie every now and then, Fena and Amy closer to her having gotten through their fans quicker. 

Next were three teenagers. They took several selfies with her, told her she was “fucking fit” and gushed over her and Trixie’s outfits. “You guys are together, right? You’re like music’s new lesbian power couple.” One said, rushing out her words like she had been nervous to say them. 

“That’s really kind of you.” Katya replied, dodging the question as artfully as she possibly could. She couldn’t deny it and ruin Ru’s plans but she couldn’t lie either. She intended to tell Michelle about the interaction later, to check if how she responded was acceptable. She wondered what she’d say if Michelle had never spoken to her and Trixie. Would it be any different?

After two hours, they had successfully greeted everyone and security was beginning to direct the fans to leave. Some were hesitant and Katya assumed it was because they were waiting for the chance to maybe be invited to an afterparty like the Mancunian fans had. Katya felt slightly guilty that they couldn’t treat every group of fans the same, but by this point she was fucking knackered and ready to wind down with her bandmates on their bus. 

It was quarter to one by the time they were all sat in their tiny lounge area, bottles of beer and an assortment of cans someone had procured from the Tesco Express down Essex Street strewn about. Shea and Naomi joined them, slumping down next to Trixie and cracking open their drinks, congratulating the band for their personal favourite show yet. Katya was sat on Trixie’s knee as there wouldn’t have been enough room for everyone otherwise and she felt Trixie’s grip around her waist tighten every now and then. 

Conversation and plenty of alcohol flowed. Michelle had her own champagne which she drank straight out of the bottle. “Bitch, I’m from New Jersey.” She responded when it was remarked upon and another round of whooping filled the bus. Michelle was clearly in the mood to celebrate that night, too, so Katya decided not to bother her with questions until the morning. It seemed like she kept putting everything off recently but there was just so much going on, constantly, that she could never be on top of it all and she resigned herself to the fact that she was weakly fighting a losing battle. 

Amy connected her phone to her portable speaker and the clanging guitars and shouty lyrics of her favorite artists became the soundtrack to their post-gig festivities. Their driver decided to set off, then, so they could park up early at Concorde2 in Brighton. It wasn’t as if he’d be getting any sleep anyway.

The band swapped fan stories from their impromptu meet and greet and, when she got an opportunity, Katya whispered in Trixie’s ear about her particularly standout experience. 

“Oh wow,” Trixie replied, “She straight up said that.”

Katya shrugged. “I guess some people take it as a given if they think they see the signs. I did my best to just be, um, um, neutral, y’know?” She flapped her hand about as she searched for the correct vocabulary.

“Don’t worry about it, you swerved it better than me and my motor mouth would have.” Trixie rubbed her side. Katya still had her stage outfit on and it was beginning to get uncomfortable but she didn’t want to move to go change. Playing with the black chiffon of her dress, she thought back to Trixie’s actions on stage.

“You really got even with me tonight.”

“Huh?”

Katya shifted so she could face Trixie easier. “Your ‘Trixya extravaganza’ moves, er, kinda blew mine out the water.” 

Trixie caught her meaning and smirked. “Told you you had it coming.”

“I think a few fans were coming after watching us.” 

“I wouldn’t blame them.” 

The sun was rising by the time they got into their beds. Trixie was absolutely hammered again so Katya undressed her and brought her to her bunk, laying her down and covering her sweetly with her blankets. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, she told her she’d be right back and went about her ablutions. She belatedly realised she hadn’t lifted out anything to sleep in and, as her laziness won her over, she just took her dress off, left it at the bottom of her bed and scrambled under the covers beside Trixie, pulling across her curtain. 

“Trix?” She whispered.

“Mm?”

“I don’t have a t-shirt on, will that bother you?”

Trixie turned over, grabbed her rather forcefully, considering how inebriated she was (or perhaps because of it) and pulled her close. “The only thing that bothers me is how your tiny tits don’t fucking sag and you don’t need to wear a bra and you don’t know how lucky you are because of that _and_ you’re forgetting I’ve seen you topless probably more than anyone else has.”

All Katya could do was wheeze-laugh at her sudden outburst. She tried not to think of Trixie’s fingers caressing her breasts during the show, didn’t want to confuse their disregard for normal boundaries in their friendship with the act they were putting on for other people, taint it that way. It was just them, now, and Katya sighed contentedly. 

“I didn’t go too far tonight, did I?” Trixie asked, burrowing into the pillow they shared.

“No, not at all.”

“Good, ‘cause it’s like - I feel like nothing I could do or say would ever shock you.”

Katya huffed a laugh. “True. Whereas if I let out my whole truth, we’d find you in a hallway somewhere just staring at the wall, completely gone, traumatised for life.”

Trixie snickered. Katya’s eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see where Trixie’s hair had flopped in front of her face. She carefully brought her hand up to move it away, feeling the tickle of her false lashes still stuck on perfectly. She peeled them off as gently as she could and flung them aside. Stroking Trixie’s loose curls, she watched as her lips curved into a satisfied smile. Trixie clumsily wrapped her arms around Katya and brought their chests flush together. Katya slotted her leg in between Trixie’s, felt the heat of her thighs on her own. 

Trixie hummed, their noses touched and Katya could see the gap in Trixie’s bold eyeliner where her lash glue had taken it away. “Should I do more, tomorrow night?” Trixie’s voice deepened.

“You can do whatever you want.” Katya said. She trusted Trixie more than anyone in the world. She knew everything Trixie did was well intended.

“God, you’re easy.” Trixie joked and Katya cackled, bumping their noses together when she calmed back down. Trixie brought her hand to Katya’s cheek, played with the ends of her fringe and inhaled like she was about to say something. She didn’t, and Katya opened her eyes again to study her. She worried that Trixie was keeping something from her, or that something was bothering her and she wasn’t mentioning it, like she had in the past for fear of causing Katya more anxiety.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, schooled her voice to remain calm and level in order to mask her deepening concern.

“Would it drive you mad if I said let’s leave it ‘til tomorrow when I don’t feel like I’m in a spinning teacup at the fair?”

She couldn’t lie. “Yeah, sorry, you know how I get.”

Trixie prised open her eyes and went to kiss Katya’s face wherever was nearest. Her clumsy lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. “Ok. No, I shouldn’t mess you around like that.”

“You didn’t but I’m gonna need you to explain ‘cause I’m already holding a lot and anything more - well, it won’t be good.” 

Trixie frowned. “You’ve been saying you’re fine. We’ve been through this a million times, you scare me when you hide stuff ‘cause you’re so fuckin’ good at it.”

“Pot kettle black right now, Trix.” Katya deadpanned, riled up that Trixie had the nerve to dare say such a thing when her insides felt like they’d been in the tumble dryer. 

Katya heard Trixie nod more than she saw her, her hair rubbing against their pillow. “I’m sorry, baby, I…” Trixie sighed, tried again. “You know how much it...I just want to look after you.” 

“It’s fine, let’s talk properly about it all when we wake up. But - what’s going on?”

“It’s not major, I promise. I just got a bit upset when I was checking social media earlier ‘cause, like, y’know, usually it’s all memes and funny shit but then a couple of fans were posting about how other fans are invasive and gross for gossiping about us being together and, yeah, normally I like the drama, but with something like this it’s...I don’t know. I just found a few arguments and wished I hadn’t seen them. I want to be Marie Kondo up in this gig and spark joy, not have my relationship with you be the reason people get mad or whatever.”

Katya nodded in understanding and repositioned them so Trixie’s head lay on her chest, forgetting she was completely naked from the waist up, holding her as tightly as she could manage when she was so worn out. Trixie cuddled into her anyway, gripped her shoulder for comfort. “Hey,” Katya smirked, knowing what she was about to say would instantly cheer Trixie up, “You can fold me any time.”


	4. Brighton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh heyyyy. Writing has taken a lil hit recently 'cause I've not been feeling so well butttt I couldn't wait to post this chapter because, for me, it's like...the turning point of the story and I had SO MUCH FUN writing it. I hope you all enjoy it too. Thank you for reading and for your lovely feedback :)))

Katya woke to Trixie groaning and mumbling in her sleep. They’d stopped driving and Katya blindly groped her bed to find her phone to check the time. Seven minutes past eleven. She stretched as much as she could with the weight of Trixie curled up against her, anchoring her to the mattress, and tried not to laugh at the “smegerfl” kind of noises coming out of the pretty pink mouth covered in completely smudged lipstick from the night before. Looking down at her chest, she saw some had transferred onto her skin too.

Katya squinted at her screen as she opened Instagram. She liked a few comments and checked her bandmates’ pages to make sure she hadn’t missed anything in the hype and craze of the touring day. She flicked back to her grid and studied the photo of her and Trixie she had posted. It had gotten more likes than anything else recently. On the one hand, she understood why and could appreciate the image objectively as provocative with a humorous caption to boot, the sure fire recipe for social media success. On the other, it was weird to think that she had chosen their pose and taken the time to get it just right for the sole subjective purpose of feeding the Trixya fire. It was too early to overthink. She texted her mom instead and responded to messages that had come through when she had been too busy to even remember her loved ones back home.

Eventually, when Trixie showed no signs of waking in the near future, Katya extracted herself so carefully that she imagined she was a ninja and pictured herself wearing the black shozoku and all, amusing herself as she crept down the corridor to put some clothes on. It seemed like she was the first one up. Not wanting to disturb the others, she foraged as quietly as she could for her workout gear and pulled on her trainers, leaving the bus and texting the band group chat to let them know where she’d gone in case they were up before she got back. 

The venue was directly opposite the beach. The weather was pleasant and actually sunny for once, people already staking their claim to a spot on the pebbles in front of the sea. She put her earphones in as she warmed up her calf muscles, hamstrings and quads, selected Shura’s Cold Moon and began to run down the promenade to the fast beat. Her ‘Gay AF Russian Music’ playlist kept her going for half an hour, the early noughties dance vibes of Ruki Vverh and his peers set her pace until she was utterly out of breath and had to lean against the peeling green railings until her heart rate had slowed down and the sweat on her face and her chest began to dry. 

She stopped off on her way back to the bus to grab breakfast from a cute little cafe up a street off Marine Parade, ordering overnight oats and poached eggs on toast to eat sitting looking out onto the road and tuning in to the conversations around her. Here, she could just be for a while. There weren’t any expectations placed upon her, deliberate or otherwise. She knew she had to offload to Trixie today and she knew she’d feel better for it, but it still made her feel guilty to admit she was struggling with aspects of touring when she should just be soaking it all up, taking it in and relishing in the once in a lifetime opportunity the band had worked hard for.

Stepping back on the bus made Katya laugh when she saw everyone curled up and lying lifeless on any flat surface they could. Michelle must have woken them, looking much less worse for wear than she ought to, because the groaning and complaining only seemed to heighten when she was present. 

Katya found Trixie in a total state, her head resting against Naomi’s washboard stomach and her arm flung over her face as if it were protecting her from the pain of being awake.

“Rise and shine, gorgeous!” Katya exclaimed and Trixie immediately gave her the finger. 

“Don’t even look at me.” 

“It’s hard not to when you’re _such_ a vision.” 

Her hair was in complete disarray, her makeup was spread all over her face so she looked like she’d become her own version of a Jackson Pollock painting but with a lot more pink, and she’d shoved on an oversized sweater that had a few stains on it and probably wasn’t even hers. Katya didn’t recognise it. 

Katya left her to wallow for a while, darting to the bus’s bathroom whilst everyone else was incapcitated and deciding it was a right, not a privilege, to have a long, steamy shower. That she might use all the water up and make everyone extra moody didn’t even register in her head. She wanted to pamper herself, for fuck’s sake, so that’s what she was going to do. 

She’d brought nice underwear and a floaty oriental style silk robe in with her and set them aside on the tiny counter, having to knock all the product bottles and containers into the sink in order to make proper space. She turned on the shower, took off her clothes and admired herself in the mirror whilst the water was warming up. That usually took a while so she made sure to turn this way and that, see what effect her run had had on her bulging quads. She tensed her abs so the definition on her stomach was even more noticeable than usual. 

Her opinions about her body swung from accepting that she had one and that was fine, she guessed, to thinking she wasn’t so bad to look at and wondering if she’d ever find someone to worship her and regularly reinforce that her narrow hips and small boobs and protruding collar bones didn’t just serve a functional purpose, but were to be admired and to exist as beautiful things, too.

She stepped under the stream, tipped her head back and almost hit the wall. The cubicle was cramped, to say the least, but it was her space for now. She ran her hands through her hair, ensuring every strand was soaked, and recollections of what Trixie did the night before flashed across her closed eyelids. She massaged shampoo deep into her roots, gripped them and tugged, and let out a peaceful exhale, the water running down her back, over her ass. 

When all the suds had washed away, she brought her hands down to cup her breasts and she bit her lip. The thought that everybody was at most a few steps away and could knock on the door at any time awoke the exhibitionist in her once more. She pinched a nipple, rolling it between her index and middle finger, as she felt her arousal build, the pulsing between her legs becoming more insistent and harder to ignore.

She turned to face the water, blinkedly watching as it ran in rivulets down her torso, how droplets caught in her pubic hair. She trailed the fingers of her right hand further down, her left maintaining the intermittent squeezing at her breast, and parted her lips so she could slide her fingers against the heat of her cunt. Her clit was swollen already and she reminded herself of how long it had been since she’d last had chance to touch herself. Weeks. Weeks of lacking. No wonder she’d experienced such a lasting reaction to Trixie’s stage antics.

She started applying pressure to her clit, not moving her fingers much but rotating her hips, slowly and restrained so she could savour the feeling spreading out to her lower stomach and upper thighs. It didn’t take long for her movements to become more demanding. She rubbed her fingers up and down each side of her hood, slick from the mix of water and her arousal dripping between them, shallowly, lightly, dipping into her entrance every now and again. Then, as her breath became more laboured and her mouth was threatening to let a moan spill out, she circled her clit with increasing fervour, her pace quickening like the race of her heartbeat. She changed up her strokes, shifted her pelvis forward or back to get the right angle, and thrust into her own hand as she clenched, felt the build up.

Then, she came, hard and violently so her whole body shook as if she was being possessed, biting down on her lip to stop her from calling out. She rode through her orgasm for as long as she could before she got too sensitive. 

She was loathe to stop but it was time to prepare herself to face the world again, properly. Katya was just glad to have made the time to be blissed out enough to return in her best mindset. She hadn’t the inclination to fret when she had fucked herself so magnificently. 

She rushed through the rest of her shower and dried herself off as speedily as possible, pulling on her black cutaway briefs and unintentionally matching lacy bralette. Wrapping her robe around her, she dashed out the bathroom to the gripes of the others waiting to get ready.

“I can’t wait for y’all to be rich enough to get us in hotels each night. I’m over this bus shit already.” Shea lamented before slamming the door and starting up the shower for herself.

Katya thought it best to avoid the gaggle of pissed off women for a while so she holed up in her bunk, towel wrapped around her head, and mulled over what she’d say to Trixie. Now she was actually ready to put all her thoughts and feelings into words, she didn’t have a clue how to verbalise them. She also acknowledged they didn’t have a lot of time. They needed to be ready and inside the venue in under an hour to start recording their interviews for their YouTube channel. Fuck. She closed her eyes and pretended she was invisible. Childish, yes, but effective.

She must have dropped off because the next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake by Trixie who had showered and washed her hair and who was demanding that she hurry up and get her stuff together to go to their dressing room. “We start filming in half an hour, move your bony ass.” 

Katya sprang up, blood rushing to her head, and went to her suitcase to pull out her outfits for the rest of the day. For the interview she chose an ivory ruffled blouse that she tucked into a short, high waisted leather skirt. She grabbed some tights and her heeled boots that she’d also wear during that night’s gig, and a black and white zig zag patterned peplum dress. Shoving it all in her canvas bag, she searched for her makeup bag, trying not to get too frantic and sweaty from suddenly moving about so much after lying down. She picked up any last bits and pieces that she thought she might need, took her phone and its charger and sprinted out into the venue in just her robe and underwear. 

Shea and Naomi were setting up and a few of the venue’s engineers were booting up the sound desk and lifting and arranging cases and amps across the stage. Katya went straight backstage to catch up with the others, put on her clothes and style her hair. She kept to herself whilst doing so, so in her head that she didn’t take notice of the conversation around her. It was only when she had been staring at herself in the mirror for way too long that she felt a hand on her arm, holding her bicep tight enough to bring her back to reality. 

“Amy and Fena can do the first video, you’re not with it right now.” Trixie’s voice was harsh but conveyed the softness she reserved solely for Katya nonetheless.

“I’m just...not level.” Katya said, tearing her gaze away from her reflection to where Trixie had a hold of her. She brought her hand up to cover Trixie’s. “Have you got a few minutes for me?”

“Don’t I always?” 

Katya nodded, took off her robe and pulled on her tights and clothes. She zipped up her boots and reached out for Trixie’s hand again, leading her outside and walking silently until they were overlooking the beach. 

She squinted, rather unbecomingly, in the glare of the early afternoon sun, tracking the bounce of an inflatable ball between two excitable children like a metronome. She felt Trixie’s eyes on her, assumed she was taking the time to assess her, see what she could glean from her posture or the expansion of her ribs as she inhaled, deep, to keep herself regulated. Then, Trixie wrapped her arms around her so her hands rested on her stomach and her chin hooked over her shoulder. She could feel every inch of her, that dependable comfort, and she closed her eyes, leant back into Trixie’s presence. 

“It’ll all seem so silly and inconsequential when I say it aloud.” 

“Yeah, as if everything else you say is serious and important.” Trixie intoned and Katya wheezed a laugh, Trixie’s refusal to baby her or pander to her every worry was a cruel-to-be-kind sort of kick up her ass. 

“Ok...So, I’m worried that we maybe aren’t as close any more for some reason because you never told me about you fantasising about a friend and that’s the kind of shit we always used to laugh about together and then that worry extended to me thinking, well, if we’re not as close anymore what does that mean for this whole Trixya thing, like, we need to be on the same page with that and what if we’re not and you’re just not telling me? And that’s on top of the added kind of acting I have to do around fans to make sure I say the right thing and what if I let something slip in an interview that people can pick apart? What if I ruin this for everyone? And like, on the other hand, what if I do or say too much with you and then Ru doesn’t like it because it isn’t ambiguous enough? And then Fena said something about her and Amy talking about me and you a lot and she meant it in a reassuring kind of way but then it got me wondering if I’m not much better than I used to be if they need to talk between themselves like that, y’know? I appreciate how you guys look out for me, don’t get me wrong, by the way, that’s not what this is, I’m just...in a bit of a muddle.” 

She sensed the laughter bubbling out of Trixie before she even heard it. Trixie squeezed her tighter, slotted her nose behind Katya’s ear and kissed her nape with an upturned mouth. “You were right,” She said, voice dripping with affection, “That is all silly.” 

With anyone else, such a statement, even a joking one, would send her into a tailspin. Her understanding of Trixie enabled her to know, deeply believe, that her brashness came from a place of love and no nonsense.

“Firstly, I personally feel like this tour has only brought us closer, and not just because we’re literally sharing a tiny bunk each night. We are absolutely on the same page but I know you need to hear me spell it out. You can do whatever you want with me and I know I can do whatever I want with you and we are both disgusting smut creatures ready to rub our lesbianism in everyone’s faces. We’re here to make it clear we like pussy and that’s that. Now, Fena and Amy talking about us is nothing new and nothing bad, they just like to know what’s happening and what they need to do to make sure we’re _both_ happy and functional. Fena’s a fucking mother hen but don’t you dare tell her I said that - she’d cut my hair off while I’m sleeping. Of course they’re going to talk about us because we’re together so often and that’s just logistics, mama. Finally,” Trixie drew a breath for dramatic effect, actually calm and collected and well practised in logically laying out orders of events or statements for Katya to take in and use to help herself rationalise. “Fuck worrying about what you’re saying. You’re hilarious and weird and batshit crazy smart and that’s what fans care about and love about you. Everyone wants _you_, not some censored version of you.” 

Katya turned around in Trixie’s arms and flung hers around Trixie’s shoulders, hugging her tightly and swaying them from side to side. Trixie’s words wouldn’t magically rid her of anxiety, but they would ring in her head to replace the bad voices, could be recalled in particularly tough moments when Katya’s mantras for positivity weren’t enough. 

Trixie pulled away first but only to bring her hands either side of Katya’s face. Her eyes were watery, so beautiful and sincere that Katya couldn’t look anywhere else. “I love you, Trixie Mattel, you always know just what to say and how to say it. Are you alright?” 

Trixie didn’t reply, studied the details of Katya’s face instead, starting from her carved brows, down the slope of her distinguishable nose and landing on the swell of her lips. There, her gaze lingered and Katya briefly wondered if she had somehow cut herself or if she had remnants of makeup bleeding from her lip line onto her skin. She noted the rise and fall of Trixie’s chest, how her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, how her eyes were lidded, heavy with exhaustion or something else. 

Katya thought Trixie was looking at her like she did on stage. She moved imperceptibly closer, just to test her theory, to see if their intimate bubble would burst and their surroundings would cave in on them, bring them back to a wider reality, a world outside of themselves. It didn’t. It shrank, zoned in to the stain seemingly permanently etched on Trixie’s skin where she overdrew her top lip, to the gentle caress of her breath that reached Katya’s mouth as she exhaled. 

Trixie’s hands moved into her hair, her fingers gripped the strands, instantly bringing her back to earlier that morning, how she came so ardently. “Mmm.” She let out, massaging her fingertips into Trixie’s satiny skin in response. She wished she could make Trixie feel as content and adored as she made her feel. She didn’t know how, didn’t think it possible. 

And just like that, the moment was over. “We should go. I’ll do your makeup.” Trixie said, voice weak and cracking. She stepped back, away from Katya, but reached out for her hand. Katya couldn’t formulate her words, just let herself be dragged through indistinct doors and corridors until she was pushed into a chair and Trixie began working away on her face. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” Katya managed, voice low as Amy and Fena were filming over on the sofa in the corner of the room, a ring light and tripod and fancy camera in front of them, Michelle watching over what they were doing and nodding approvingly every so often at a particularly sweet answer from Amy or a funny sarcastic comment from Fena. 

“I just worry about you and I feel guilty that I get smashed every night and you have to look after me. It should be the other way around. Minus the drinking part, of course.” Trixie was bouncing a sponge covered in foundation on Katya’s face. She worked quickly and expertly, knowing Katya didn’t like wearing too many heavy duty products on her skin, preferring to focus on eyes and lips. Trixie applied a bit of bronzer to the natural razor sharp cut of Katya’s cheekbones and Katya could tell she was restraining herself from using blush and highlighter, Katya profusely hating how both looked on her even when Trixie worked her magic.

“You are looking after me. It’s not your job. You’re here to play music and enjoy yourself and so what if you’re getting drunk, that’s what rock stars do, and I’d, uh, uh, start to resent you if you thought otherwise or changed your behaviour on my account so don’t go there.”

Trixie leant into Katya to do her brows, using a darker pomade to define the tail ends and a lighter shade the further inwards she went, blending them seamlessly and creating a natural gradient. “I love you too, Yekaterina Petrovna Zigowamalala. We’re ok then?” She cracked a smile before looking away to get her eyeshadow palette, the one with the blue that Katya had remarked upon in Glasgow. 

“No, we’re fabulous, sexy, wonderful, hypnotic, funky, fresh.” Katya cackled, slapping her palm to her mouth upon remembering the camera rolling only several metres away.

Trixie rolled her eyes and chuckled, tucking her chin in to her chest as if she was embarrassed about how pronouncedly she reacted to Katya’s buffoonery. 

Trixie worked silently for the next ten minutes, buffing the bright, sky blue out from a smokier, grungier purple. She swept liquid liner across Katya’s lid, flicking it out to accentuate the false lashes she then dropped and stuck on to her with tweezers, light as a feather. She took Katya’s favourite NARS red liquid lipstick, unscrewed the lid and pulled out the wand as she instructed her to part her lips.

She bent down, then, bringing her face directly in front of Katya’s and Katya didn’t know where the thought came from, whether it was to reassure Trixie that she was perfect as she was, that Katya couldn’t bear it if she modified her behaviour because of her, if she felt held back in any way, but it bloomed in her mind for just a second - how wonderful it would be to kiss her. She was often very able to articulate her intricate thoughts. Trying to tell Trixie how much she valued her, however, was absolutely futile. Words weren’t enough.

“Trixie, Katya, we’re ready for you.” Michelle’s voice interrupted Katya’s stream of consciousness. 

“Two minutes, just finishing my masterpiece.” Trixie replied. She ran her finger along Katya’s dry bottom lip as if to check whether she needed to apply a scrub first. Trixie deemed her acceptable, apparently, dipping into the lipstick and swiping it in precise, short strokes, shadowing where her finger had been. Katya was sweating, only hoped it wasn’t evident on her face too much, didn’t want to ruin Trixie’s efforts. She held her breath, held Trixie’s careful gaze when she moved on to her top lip and dabbed the wand on her cupid’s bow.

“All done.” Trixie said, so tenderly, and pulled back slightly to check over what she had done. She patted her cheek then turned to the mirror to give herself the once over. 

Katya didn’t need to see her reflection to know Trixie had transformed her. She had the knack of accentuating her existing features without glossing over her imperfections or eradicating them altogether, as was the tendency within any industry that was built upon appearance. Trixie knew what Katya liked, she never needed to state it. Katya sometimes even knew Trixie better than she knew herself. They’d once had an interviewer ask who they would want to play them in a film about their life and Trixie had said Sarah Michelle Gellar but Katya knew Angelyne was a much more accurate casting. Trixie had loudly shouted, “You’re so right!” Their interviewer had winced as Katya grinned smugly. 

They were who they were and they were there for each other and no little niggles could get in the way of that, Katya thought, springing up, twirling and skipping over to the sofa. Looking better than she had in a good while also helped her come into herself again. 

“Alright ladies,” Michelle said as Trixie came to sit on Katya’s lap, swivelling so they were both still facing the camera. “You’ve seen the topics we want covered. Be yourself but try not to go too over the top.” Amy and Fena’s video was due for upload that evening and Trixie and Katya’s would follow a few hours after. “Go!”

“Hi, I’m the chemical burn from the spiral perm, Trixie Mattel.” 

Katya bunched her fists up by her chest and shook them from side to side as she cracked up. “What? What?! You have the nerve, you have the nerve, you have a lot of nerve. That do take nerve.”

The two of them laughed for way longer than what was necessary.

“And I’m the beautiful blonde babysitter who won’t get outta here without singing the blues - Katya!” 

“And welcome to our YouTube channel where we talk about whatever we want.”

“Because it’s our channel, not yours.”

Katya thought Michelle might have flipped them the bird from behind the camera if their knack for finishing each other’s sentences and on the spot, improv humour wasn’t absolute gold. 

“Today we’ve been given strict instructions to talk about certain things.” Trixie started them off. “So if you want to play along at home, drink every time we don’t mention: the tour so far, influences behind our new single Yellow Cloud - which is released this Friday - our debut album and how we would describe our personal styles.” 

Cheeky bitch, Katya thought as she let out her infamous wheeze-laugh and Michelle rolled her eyes, trying her best not to show her amusement. 

The rest of filming went smoothly. Katya didn’t once think about whether squeezing Trixie’s fat just above her hip would be appropriate or not, didn’t wonder whether laughing into Trixie’s hair at one of her witty responses was done for the benefit of their fans, didn’t even remember the camera was there when they went off on a trajectory about god knows what and Katya was entranced by what crap Trixie had to say. 

She felt good and when Michelle told them they needed to go to soundcheck, Katya bounded to the stage with renewed energy. She couldn’t wait to perform and she could feel it, deep within her, that their show that night would be absofuckinglutely standout. 

-

Katya knelt before Trixie, fingers flying over the frets of her bass as if they had minds of their own, weren’t needed to be controlled by Katya’s consciousness, weren’t a part of the muscle memory she obtained from hours upon hours of band rehearsals and private practice. The length of her dress barely cushioned her knees against the hard surface of the stage, her hair was sticking out in all directions but her heavily straightened fringe was somehow still in place despite the sweat pouring off her, dripping down her forehead. She was glad she decided not to wear tights that night.

She had spent the past thirty minutes channelling everything she had into her performance, jumping off the raised platform to come and play nearer to the fans pushed against the barrier; writhing on her back and canting her hips up as she spun her riffs, sexual and unperturbed; darting to her right to play alongside Amy or Fena and make funny expressions or little dances with them; and even coming into the slow splits at one point, pretending to be so casual and uncaring about it, to the bemusement of the fans and the rest of the band alike. 

Then, she had let herself loose on Trixie, singing her backing vocals into the same mic so their mouths pressed together and their lipstick smudged ever so slightly, so that if someone were to take a photo, it would only be noticeable to discernible eyes, to those who zoomed in to discover and detect the details they were yearning to find. 

Trixie had built upon what she had done before, running her hand up Katya’s bare leg, right under her hem, bunching her dress up so the audience couldn’t see exactly what she was doing under there but could take a very good, imaginative guess. Katya had held her breath the entire time, eyes closing as Trixie played with the waistband of her underwear, hooking her index finger underneath and pulling so she had to play for the rest of the show with her briefs resting lopsided over her hips. 

Trixie had also licked her neck. That had driven her truly insane because the fucker knew how sensitive Katya was there, knew she wouldn’t be able to control how she showed what such an action did to her in front of the crowd. Trixie had come behind her, played with her hair like usual, sang in her ear, which never got less impressive and goosebump inducing - Katya wasn’t immune to her teasing just yet and, if she were to be honest with herself, she never wanted to be, wanted to be able to react organically each time and have everyone see what a marvel Trixie actually was. Trixie had then, in a rare pause between her quick succession of vocals, pressed her tongue to the tense tendon at the right of Katya’s neck and dragged it up behind her ear. Her hot breath spread out behind her lobe, sent shivers down her spine, throughout her entire nervous system. 

“Dare you to do better.” Trixie had rushed out before tearing herself away to go back to her mic stand.

So Katya found herself waiting for the end of the next song, for the lull in their activity to strike and get one up on Trixie.

As her last note rang out, Trixie stepped back and looked down at Katya, enquiringly, and challenged her with a cocky tilt of her head. She picked the right time to do this, Katya thought to herself - Trixie started them off on their seventh track with an acoustic melody that ran through all of the first verse. The crowd was still going wild and, as Trixie went to change her mustang for her Gibson, Katya formulated exactly what she would enact before the hundreds of hungry eyes desperate to witness more. 

She waited for Trixie to get into her stance, feet apart. She wore her black platform boots that night, to match her black and white problem pattern, figure skimming, long sleeved dress. Katya edged towards her and brought her lips to the side of Trixie’s knee, glad there was no material barrier between them. She pressed a series of sloppy, open mouthed kisses in a messy trail upwards, up her thigh to where her ridiculously short dress began to impede her efforts. She rubbed her left hand up and down Trixie’s leg as she kissed her. 

When she was satisfied with the sheer volume of screaming coming from the audience, she pulled back and planted one foot on the ground to hoist herself up to standing. Before she had the chance to raise, Trixie placed her foot on Katya’s knee, keeping her in place. Trixie started to strum her jaunty, mid paced intro for two bars before singing the first lines of the song, unaffected as if she wasn’t using Katya as her personal stool. All Katya could do was stare at her in disbelief, ignore the thrill shooting through her and remember when to come in with her accompanying bass line. 

They remained that way until the chorus, when Fena’s drums pounded and cymbals rang out and Amy reinforced Trixie’s guitar parts with rockier synths and Katya’s bass boomed to complete the nineties vibes Trixie had been going for when she first had ideas for the track. Trixie kicked Katya away, sang in her most powerful voice, almost shouting, about needing something more from the person she was with, that even though they were good and sweet and nice, it had all been done before, in her eyes, it wasn’t enough.

Katya, temporarily shell-shocked, allowed herself a few seconds sprawled on the floor before she sprang up, faced the crowd and got them jumping up and down almost as frenetically as her, body fizzing with adrenaline and frustration at Trixie’s boldness, her nerve. Katya couldn’t let her think that she was that way inclined, that she wasn’t domineering, subservient instead. She knew Trixie was a total princess but had Trixie really no idea about her? Or was she purposefully pushing her buttons?

She had to claim her control back, have the upper hand in their game of provocation.

After their encore, they were all reluctant to leave the stage. The crowd didn’t seem to want to let the night come to an end, the room echoing with never ending chants of “more, more, more!” The four of them stood at the edge, as close as they could get to their fans without falling, their arms around each other, waving and blowing kisses to the endless streams of women and girls jumping up and down and clapping for them, sweaty and unapologetic about it. Katya gripped onto Amy, who was screaming just as loud and filming the crowd for her Insta stories. Amy panned the camera around to Katya’s manic grin, giggling and putting her phone as close to her face as she could without soaking it in Katya’s drenching perspiration. 

“Thank you so, so much!” Trixie yelled. “See you next time!” She led them backstage, having been signalled by Michelle that they needed to move now if they didn’t want to piss the venue off. Michelle had allocated half an hour to meet fans at stage door before they had to be on the bus for a quick drive back to London. They would get to the AirBnB All Star Records had rented for them for the next couple of days and would then be picked up for their live session at Maida Vale. 

They could still hear the crowd when they piled into their dressing room, springing about together, arms around each other in pure joy. “Oh my god!” Amy yelled, high pitched and disbelieving. 

Each of them hurriedly packed up their bags to take out with them and cracked into some drinks, creating their own noise as everyone in the main hall was being herded outside so the staff could clear up and Naomi and Shea could properly get to work. Despite Michelle’s insistence that that night would be a quiet one, the band had other ideas, too pent up to calm down and just sit nicely en route to London when they’d just had the most flabbergasting live experience of their careers.

Katya didn’t bother changing, despite how damp and clingy her dress was. She didn’t want to waste one second of what she was feeling in that moment, couldn’t bear to tear herself away from the collective euphoria.

“Guys, what the fuck is going to happen tomorrow?” Trixie yelped. “Like, we said it yesterday but - everything is getting better and better and I don’t even know how but now I feel like we can top it?” She posed her statement as a question in that way she did when she wanted reinforcement from her friends that she wasn’t crazy for being hopeful, for having the goals she did.

Katya was the first to respond and shout, “Fuck yes!” And Trixie pulled her into her side, walked out with her like they were glued together and loathe to be separated regardless. 

The fans greeted them outside with a constant flow of compliments and questions and gifts and meeting them passed in an absolute haze to Katya because she was so at ease, so confident (for a change) that she was doing the right thing, that she was being suitably applauded for her efforts. Even when fans mentioned her relationship with Trixie, told her how “gorge” they were together and how “seen” or “valid” they made people feel, she didn’t panic, just went with it, went with her natural instincts without consideration for anyone else but Trixie and herself.

They pushed it as much as they could with Michelle, asked for a little longer, Trixie reasoning it’s good PR to be seen spending so much time with fans. Michelle allowed them fifteen more minutes and then stepped in, telling the crowd that she was sorry but she had to get the band to London for their single release day and their performance with Radio 1, which kept them excited and understanding and, Katya assumed, prepared to spread the information around to the rest of the fandom to ramp up anticipation. 

Though there were many YouTube videos of them performing the track live, Trixie reported that the general consensus on social media was that people couldn’t wait to be able to buy and stream the song and have it to listen to wherever they were. Katya thought it incredibly sweet that so many women in particular still held such high regards for musicians and wanted to support them however they could, be it financially or otherwise, especially in the digital age. 

There was much more awareness amongst consumers of how the industry worked (or, sometimes more accurately, didn’t work) and female fans were often way more innovative and savvy than the majority of label and PR execs with regards to promo and social media. From what Trixie told her and from what she saw herself, Katya thought they could learn a lot from young women in a fandom on Tumblr and it was the companies that tapped in to their discussions and ideas that often reaped the most rewards. 

Katya would be a fool not to gather that that was what was going on with the whole Trixya plan. If there wasn’t demand, there wouldn’t be the need to supply.

They were able to set off only an hour later than scheduled, their driver pulling onto the motorway with a bus load of ecstatic women dancing as much as they could to the most varied collection of music possible and getting positively merry off of whatever was left in their fridge. Michelle had resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn’t get even a minute’s peace so joined in with them with abandon. Katya downed her final stash of red bull and devoured an entire packet of vegetarian Percy Pigs that she had initially bought for Trixie because they were cute and pink and gelatine free.

Their conversation centred solely around their performance, the sheer amount of positive recollections they shared enough to fuel them until they arrived in Camden. Amy recounted how many fans she saw who knew the words to their second upcoming single, Rockstar, and gushed how cute it was that they learned what they could off of YouTube videos. Fena laughed at how she almost hit a teenage girl straight in the face with her sticks as she threw them out at the end. 

Michelle chimed in, slightly worse for wear already, “And ‘Trixya’! I felt like I was watching a softcore porn! That was fantastic!” 

Katya didn’t have chance to worry about how to react, everyone around them, Trixie included, cheered and downed the rest of their drinks to commemorate such a crowd pleasing success. 

“I’m glad I get praised for making out with Trixie’s leg. The art school student in me will forever be pinching herself!” 

Michelle let them into their top floor flat at three in the morning and ordered them straight to bed, reminding them that a van would be picking them up at 9:30. Naomi and Shea were in charge of getting their instruments, pedals and amps to Maida Vale - their van was coming half an hour earlier so they quickly found a bedroom, took their makeup off and collapsed into their beds. 

Tiredness was only just beginning to creep up on Katya but she wasn’t anywhere near close to working off the energy that was still racing through her as if she had only just come off stage. 

Amy kissed Katya and Trixie goodnight outside of a single bedroom she quickly claimed as hers. “See you in a few hours, urgh. You’re my favourite lesbians and I’m so happy we get to do this together.” 

Fena popped her head out of the lounge. “Night, gays. There’s a sofa bed in here with my name on it. I’ll wake everyone at eight so don’t be mad when I come in singing Material Girl, it’s your alarm. Love you crazy ladies.” 

“Love you too.” Trixie and Katya replied in unison before heading down to the end of the corridor to the master bedroom. They dumped their bags, checked out the en suite and hummed approvingly at the deep, claw foot bath tub. 

“I’m getting the fuck in that at some point this weekend.” Katya stated.

“Me too.” Trixie smirked as if she’d said something funny but Katya was too wired to catch on. 

Katya peeled off her sweat soaked dress, leaving it in a heavy pile on the floor, and stood with a hand on her hip, using her other to fan herself. 

“Still hot?” Trixie asked.

“Aren’t I always?” 

“Very true.” Trixie hummed. 

Katya turned to look at her just in time to watch her take off her clothes so they were both just in their underwear. She didn’t know when she first noticed how objectively gorgeous Trixie was, but it was a truer fact as any - she was tall but not intimidatingly so; her hips were wide and created a perfect hourglass shape, her stomach pudgy and soft; the skin at the back of her thighs was decorated with tiger stripe cellulite and her ass was round and peachy and, Jesus fucking Christ, framed so beautifully by her high femme, lacy knickers. It was no surprise that so many fans lusted after her, that, if she so determined, she could have any woman she wanted, have them please her and pleasure her until she was seeing stars. 

But she hadn’t shown any interest since Pearl. And that, for some unknown reason, was always at the back of Katya’s mind. 

“I’m too worked up to but we need to sleep.” Trixie said, scratching absentmindedly at her side.

Katya agreed and got into her side of the bed, shifting this way and that until she got as comfortable as she was going to get. She felt like she could unzip her skin and escape out of it.

Trixie lay next to her, equally as restless, sighing. “This is embarrassing but...” She started. Katya watched as she covered her face with her hands and, gently, as if any sudden movement would scare her away, Katya took them away, placing them on her chest. Katya didn’t need to speak to encourage her to continue. “With everything that we’re doing, my body’s...reacting.”

“Oh my god, I thought that was just me!” Katya exclaimed in delight. “When I took that long shower, you surely knew what I was doing right?”

Trixie cackled. “I had an idea.” 

Katya turned so she was pressed up against Trixie’s arm, rested her cheek above Trixie’s shoulder. “Have you not...?”

“No! There’s not been time.”

“You gotta make the time.”

“I have time now...?” Trixie sounded like she was asking permission and that did things to Katya which would probably panic her in the morning.

“Go on then.” She dared, not meeting Trixie’s eye but resolving not to shy away either. 

“Here? You sure?”

“Fine by me.” She tried to sound casual, thought of how ardently she kissed and caressed Trixie on stage, channelled that same fire now. “And what am I supposed to do?”

Trixie closed her eyes, tilted her head back deeply into the cushiony pillow so her hair fanned out, and moved one hand beneath the covers, like she had put her hand underneath Katya’s dress. It had the very same effect, teasing and undisputedly suggestive and Katya began to sweat like she was performing too. 

She heard the minute rustles of the duvet where Trixie began to move. Katya couldn’t quite tell if she was fingering herself or massaging her clit and she imagined what her preference might be when she was desperate and eager. 

“I can’t...” Trixie groaned in what sounded close to annoyance. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Katya purred in her ear, deciding there and then that it would just be downright cruel not to help her, to bring her out of her misery. If that’s what Trixie wanted, of course, the last rational part of Katya’s brain reminded her. 

“Would you...talk me through it?” Trixie kept her eyes screwed shut, her forehead creasing in concentration. If it were any lighter in the room, Katya was sure she’d be able to see a blush colour Trixie’s cheeks, the kind that came from shame turning into excitement.

“You’re telling me that music’s most sought after girly lesbian fantasy is having trouble thinking dirty thoughts? You’d have fooled me.” Katya let her lips graze Trixie’s ear, her breath kiss her delicate skin. 

Trixie let out a shaky laugh. “Shut up.”

“I don’t think that’s what you really want.” Katya said, bold, keeping her face near to Trixie’s neck so she could feel her exhalations. 

“No. I need a bit of guidance. I...can’t think straight.” 

“I should hope not.” Katya quipped. The movements under the duvet started up again and Katya took it as a sign to get talking. She hadn’t a clue what Trixie wanted of her but she knew she could get a woman to come from just her voice, knew she could spin a story or bring to life an image or scenario so filthy that it would be thought about for weeks after. “From what I’ve heard, you’re very proficient in getting other women off. You’ll have to tell me what you prefer as we go along. I’ll give you the chance.” 

Trixie moaned for the first time, then, nodding once, sure and certain, her pace quickening slightly. 

“I want you to imagine you’re naked and you’ve got a woman spread out before you, her legs are apart so you can see every bit of her and you’re so aroused that you can barely hold yourself back from burying your face in her cunt.” Katya smiled against Trixie’s neck as she moaned again. “But you restrain yourself, want to treat her - eat her - right.” She couldn’t help but laugh at her own wordplay and Trixie immediately joined in too, remarking how terrible Katya was.

“You crawl on top of her,” Katya said suddenly, bringing them back, “And you kiss the inside of her thigh, run your hand up to her hip and take a hold of her there. You spread her legs ever wider because you can, she’s flexible, and lie on your stomach so when you look up you can see how her boobs rest on her chest and how she’s dripping for you.” 

“Fuck.” Trixie exhaled sharply, began to meet her touches with the raise of her hips. 

“You run your tongue up to where she’s begging for it. She’d had hers in you not long ago, so now you need to return the favour, serve her and look after her as if you were born to do it. Do you like that, Trix?”

Trixie nodded ardently, kept her eyes resolutely closed despite Katya staring at her so intently, unable to tear her gaze away.

“You lick her up to taste how wet she is for you and then you push your tongue up one side of her clit, then the next. You feel her pubes in your mouth, against your cheeks and your chin and you rub your face against her so you’re covered in her arousal. She wants you to eat her out so fucking much and you don’t need asking twice, now, do you?”

“No.” Trixie barely managed to speak, voice hoarse. The hand above the covers was gripping them so tightly that it was a wonder Trixie hadn’t got cramp yet. 

“You bury your face in her, hard, so your nose is squashed against her clit and your tongue darts in and out of her as fast as you can make it. Your jaw aches and you think you’re going to suffocate but that’s what makes it so incredible. She throws her legs over your shoulders and pulls you in even closer and you bob up and down as you drag your tongue from her entrance to her clit and back and over and over.”

Trixie moaned, untameable and loud, and begged Katya to finish. Katya ignored how her own words, mixed with Trixie’s pleas, were getting her a thousand times wetter than she had been when she masturbated in the shower. 

She refuted Trixie’s request. “Shh, you don’t want to do a half-assed job do you? This woman took her time to take you apart. She deserves the very best from you, princess.” 

“Katya...” Trixie’s chest heaved, her breasts pushed together, uncomfortably so, by her bra. Katya took notice, as she was talking, exactly what got Trixie to move her hand faster, what caused her to buck up, to part her lips and pant or what eased her along with her rhythm. 

“You focus solely on her clit now, increasing your pressure and getting the sweetest, sexiest moans out of her because she can’t believe how lucky she is to get to fuck you and to have you do whatever she wants. You flatten your tongue against where’s she’s positively throbbing and you lick and lick and lick until she’s trembling and pulling your hair and thrashing against the bed. Can you make her come from just this?” Katya asked, the only thing keeping her steady was her expectation of herself.

“Yes, please, yes.” 

“I’m not asking if you’re ready to come. I’m asking: are you capable of giving this woman the best fucking orgasm of her life from your mouth alone?”

Trixie stopped abruptly then, let out a choked noise of frustration and Katya worried she’d gone too far, was about to hurry out her apologies and offer to sleep on the floor if she’d overstepped in any way. But then Trixie flipped onto her front, spread herself wide so her left leg hooked over Katya’s, tilted her hips so the duvet rose in a mound, and screwed down on herself. “You’ve no idea how good I am.” She bit out into the pillow, bit down on the material before she came squealing out Katya’s name.

Katya couldn’t resist any longer. Trixie lay like a dead weight, half on top of her, but Katya nonetheless managed to snake her hand into her knickers and unashamedly started getting herself off. She was so, so wet. It didn’t take long. She rubbed over her clit in circles then crooked her fingers against herself to apply as much pressure as she could. She was silent apart from her ragged breathing so she could listen in to Trixie coming down, to how she reacted to Katya’s masturbation. 

Katya felt the tell tale signs of her climax creeping up on her. She needed something a little more to get her there and, as if she read her mind, Trixie turned to face her, raked a hand through her knotty hair and sweaty fringe and pulled at the crown of her head. Once, twice, and she was coming, quiet but powerfully, her orgasm rippling through her in intoxicating waves lasting for never ending seconds. 

After riding through the last of it all, Katya brought her hand up out of the covers, her wetness dripping down her wrist. “Shit.” She muttered and only then did Trixie properly open her eyes, inspecting Katya’s wrinkling fingers.

“I thought I was wet - you could drown a small village with all that.” 

Katya laughed. “Shut up! I need a towel or something, get off me.” 

“Here.” Trixie murmured darkly before slowly parting her lips and taking Katya’s fingers into her mouth. Katya felt the curl of her tongue around her knuckles, felt Trixie suck harder as she began to pull off, felt herself twitch with a new arousal when Trixie licked every last drop from the side of her hand. She retracted, flopped back onto her pillow and hummed with pleasure. Katya didn’t think she’d ever witnessed something so pornographic, so downright hot.

She couldn’t formulate any kind of sentence, her mind so entirely twisted and turned upside down. All she could do was pull Trixie towards her, keep her close despite the heat that generated between them and kiss her forehead, before sleeping soundly with the knowledge that, despite everything else, right in that moment she had been acting without restraint. With Trixie by her side, she was always where - and who - she was meant to be.


	5. London (Night 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm royally sick YET AGAIN and slowly going mad because I've not been able to write anywhere near as much of chapter 6 as I would have liked by now. Regardless, I couldn't deprive y'all of this absolute beast of a chapter - apologies in advance for the longer wait until the next time I update. 
> 
> I'm so very proud of this so I do hope you enjoy it. Please let me know :) and thank you to all who have read so far.

“Some girls romance, some girls slow dance, that's all right with me! If they can't raise my interest then I have to let them be!” The bedroom door was flung open by Fena, singing at the top of her voice just as she’d promised. Trixie and Katya both sprung apart from where they were curled up and cuddled together, not because they were ashamed of being positioned so, but because they had been in such a deep sleep that the sudden noise was like being splashed with ice cold water.

“Thanks for that.” Trixie said sarcastically, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. 

“You’re very welcome, my precious pumpkin pie.” Fena cooed mockingly. “You’ve less than an hour to get ready. Don’t fuck about.” She closed the door on them and left them to it. 

“You use the bathroom first.” Katya offered, knowing Trixie would take longer than her. “Just don’t touch the tub. Something like that needs at least an hour to enjoy and you’re not getting in it before I do.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Yes, _mom_.” 

“Hey, that’s fuck my pussy with a rake, mom, to you.” It was silly and didn’t quite make sense but Katya wheeze laughed at her own insanity and smiled to herself as Trixie carried on cackling when she turned on the shower.

They got ready in plenty of time and Trixie packed their outfits for their gig that night as Katya finished off her makeup. Katya decided to dress moderately comfortably for the Maida Vale sessions, choosing her light-wash mom jeans with embroidered eyes dotted all over them, a plain black crop top and a red patterned silk tassel shawl. She finished off the look with her heeled boots that she would also wear on stage later. She could never be bothered carting around multiple pairs of shoes - they were heavy and a nuisance and she was a busy working woman, Linda.

They met the others in the lounge. Amy was yawning but had managed to put a full face of makeup on, complete with glitter, and had arranged her yellow hair in a complicated looking up do, little braids sticking out here and there. She had her pink cowboy boots on that Trixie had bought her for her birthday the previous year and a gorgeous vintage nightie with a contrasting slip underneath. Fena had made some sort of an effort by putting a sparkling blazer on over her t-shirt and jeans. Trixie wore a cute yellow checkered dress with a white collar and had decided to put on her white platforms at the last minute. Altogether, Katya thought, they didn’t look one bit cohesive but they sure made an impact.

The van was ready for them soon after and they left their flat as scheduled, arriving at the studio for ten. They had all done some vocal warm ups during their journey and Naomi and Shea were finishing off setting up their equipment when they entered the space. Radio 1 requested that they be positioned in a diamond formation, facing inwards, so that the cameras could track them like that. Fena faced Katya and Trixie faced Amy, with Trixie next to Katya.

Tuning and preparing to start recording took longer than Katya expected and it was close to eleven by the time they’d got the approval to begin. They were being hosted and very briefly interviewed by Huw Stephens for his BBC Music Introducing programme and Michelle had sent through their proposed setlist weeks in advance. They had agreed on five tracks, their final being Yellow Cloud, which had gone live for streaming and purchase that very morning. Katya hadn’t even thought about the fact that their single was officially out, it seemed like there were so many other things clamouring for her attention that there wasn’t any time to sit and reflect. 

Stood by her mic and pedal board, Katya triple checked she had her settings correct and took deep breaths, thinking over what Trixie had said to reassure her the day before. She shifted the weight of her bass so it rested in the perfect position and only then did she look up to check on the others. She held her thumbs up when Fena asked if she was sorted and then Huw was talking in her ears, introducing the band, giving the future listeners a brief history of their formation and discography and opening up the stage for them to play Intro and the first track they always performed live, the very first single they ever released.

After a short interview about the upcoming album in which they all repeated what they’d said to other interviewers but made sure to keep it fresh by injecting their wacky personalities and off the wall humour (mild incest jokes and discussions about Trixie thinking Irn Bru tasted like piss), they got ready to perform what would be the second single from their new album, Rockstar, a pop/rock ode to the highs and lows of being a band steadily gaining popularity and, among some, notoriety. It was a bit cheesy and nothing someone else hadn’t done before but Trixie’s vocals and Katya’s fast paced bass line rounded off with a driving drum beat made it for an unforgettable track. An easy choice for them to make for their next single and luckily one that the people at All Star agreed with. 

The song started with all of them playing, Fena tapping her bass drum in a steady singular rhythm, Trixie strumming three progressive chords then playing a short riff at the end and repeating, Amy’s synth a pulsing accompaniment and Katya’s light plucking of her bass supporting Trixie’s scale.

Trixie’s vocals came in soon after, the first verse about retaining her expectations and aspirations despite being a little beaten down, about how, in time, there would be a crowd screaming her name and nothing else would matter. During the pre-chorus, Fena’s rhythm quickened and she hit her snare in time with her bass drum. Katya’s bass line followed Fena’s beat and Amy’s synths increased in volume and intensity. Trixie repeated her guitar part whilst singing until the chorus exploded in a burst of choppy drum beats and Katya’s distorted riffs. Katya and Amy provided backing vocals, their ‘oo-ooh’s following Trixie’s long held notes, and each time they played the chorus it got louder and punchier until the song ended with Trixie practically yelling, “I just want to be a rockstar!”

Whilst they set up for their next track, the fifth song of their usual live setlist, Huw asked them about the tour and how it had been for them.

“Not to discredit our previous audiences but you guys are mental over here.” Fena replied. “These are the best gigs we’ve ever had and it’s all down to how much energy the crowds give us.”

“Definitely. I mean, I wear heels or platforms every single day and usually I’m fine but because I’ve jumped about and danced so much during these shows, I’m really starting to feel it!” Amy added. “It’s been the best experience of our lives and we can’t even begin to explain how grateful we are for the chance to do this.”

“Urgh.” Trixie and Katya reacted simultaneously, the band breaking out into laughter.

“Well it certainly seems like you’re having fun over here. How does the UK compare to LA, where you’re all based?” 

“Your food is total sh- I mean, uh, terrible but your people don’t take themselves seriously and that kind of attitude greatly appeals to me.” Katya said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“We love the UK and we’ll be back in no time once the album’s out.” Trixie supplied. 

Huw then introduced their next track and Amy began her part. Katya felt strange just standing there, not being able to interact with Trixie, not having her march towards her with fierce determination like usual. Trixie sang the first verse perfectly but without her movements, without being able to demonstrate her stage presence, the lyrics fell kind of flat, their meaning left unaided by action. 

The chorus passed in the same manner and even with the added backing vocals from Amy, Katya couldn’t bear it. As she began to play her bass line for the second verse, she deftly navigated her way around her pedal board and a copious amount of wires, nudged past the camera pointed at her station and edged over to Trixie. As she began to play her slightly higher notes nearer towards the chorus, Trixie smiled at her and turned her body towards her, welcoming her over. She adjusted the mic so that she could comfortably stand, still clearly in shot, with Katya now by her side, the recipient of her words. 

Katya leant into the mic to sing her backing vocal parts then Trixie responded, their faces barely millimetres apart. Trixie picked at her succession of notes and looked down at her pickups so her larger than life lashes fanned out and cast a shadow over her cheeks. 

When the time came for their solos, Katya shifted them so they rested their foreheads against each other, staring into the depths of one another’s eyes and only breaking the contact every now and then to check their finger placement. 

For the final bars of the song, Trixie edged forwards and pressed her cheek against Katya’s so she could whisper in her ear, despite her headphones covering them, “This doesn’t feel enough.” 

In silent response, Katya nudged Trixie’s neck with her nose to give her better access and kissed along her pulse point, gentle, nothing outrageous for pre-watershed viewing. As Trixie’s final note rang out, Katya carefully stepped away and tiptoed back to her original spot to adjust her pedals ready for their Dolly medley. 

“Wow.” Huw complimented them on their performance. “I know for sure that track is a fan favourite during the live shows. Trixie and Katya, you’ve attracted a rabid army of fans who absolutely love what you do together. Is it weird having strangers with this kind of interest in how you interact with each other?” 

“It’s flattering.” Trixie answered quickly. “Y’know, we’ve had fans come up to us and say that how we act or whatever helped them become more comfortable with themselves, even helped some girls come out because they _really_ liked what they saw. That’s amazing to hear.” 

“It’d be a real shame if no one was interested in us as people. We’re great.” Fena said dryly and Katya wheeze laughed into her mic. 

They played their medley, Trixie mentioning that Dolly Parton had always been one of her biggest inspirations, and finished off the set with Yellow Cloud, thanking Huw for having them and recording their sound bites for Radio 1. Michelle met them outside the studio, hugging each of them and telling them how well she thought they did. “Really nice answer about you and Katya, Trixie.” She added. 

Naomi and Shea were busy packing up the band’s equipment to transport to the Electric Ballroom. Michelle went with Trixie, Katya, Amy and Fena in a van straight to the venue so they could go over their schedule for the next couple of days and grab lunch from Camden. 

Almost as soon as they’d put their bags on the floor of their dressing room, Michelle gathered them round. “Alright ladies, there’s a lot to get through. Because of recording this morning, you’ve obviously been quiet on social media. I posted a couple of stories on the band’s page and also put up the cover of the single on your main feed with a ‘link in bio’ kind of caption. I’d like each of you to post on your own Twitter and Instagram pages and do some personal videos on the band’s stories once you’ve had lunch. Also hype up the fact that you’re playing a sold out show tonight, ok?”

The band nodded. 

“Great. Trixie, Katya, once you’ve finished soundcheck, you’re gonna post something like that fantastic mirror pic. I want fans going wilder than ever and a few tweets wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Sure.” Trixie said and Katya could almost see the cogs turning in her head, thinking up what to do. 

“So, remember there’s an after party in Dalston. Tickets sold out in less than two hours, by the way, I don’t think I got round to telling you. I’ll order some Ubers to get you over there once you’ve had a few drinks here. I’d like you all to stay until at least one. I don’t expect you to spend all night with the fans but, well, you know what to do, you’re all great at this kind of thing. There’ll be a guest list only section cordoned off so you can have some time to yourselves without anyone bothering you.” 

“Is Courtney coming?” Katya asked. Courtney was her Australian friend who now lived in London and she hadn’t seen her in a good while. She’d excitedly asked Michelle to invite her as she couldn’t trust herself to remember to do it.

“Yeah she said she can’t wait to see you all and she’s bringing a couple of her friends.” 

Katya grinned. “I once shit in her bed.”

“Tomorrow,” Michelle promptly continued, “Your acoustic session for Doc Martens will start at two, so you’ve got a nice relaxing morning. You’ve been sent a couple of pairs of Docs each and they’re at the flat. You must wear a pair whilst performing. Finally, a taxi will take you to The Guardian main office for your photo shoot and interview. I had to pull a lot of strings to get you time with them so late and on a Saturday too so best behaviour please.” Michelle looked pointedly at Trixie and Katya. 

“Scouts honour.” Trixie promised. 

“I don’t know how long you’ll be there but once you’re done, you’re free for the night. We’ll take the vans up to Oxford on Sunday morning but I’ll update you on specific times tomorrow. All good?”

“Yes boss!” The band replied, saluting her.

“Great. Trixie can you get me lunch from Mildred’s? It’s vegetarian. Take my card and if anyone else wants food from there, it’s on me.” 

“You’re being too nice, what have you got up your sleeve?” She replied, grabbing the plastic nonetheless. 

The sun was shining and Camden High Street bustled with tourists, punk buskers and locals barging their way through the hoards of people littering the pavements. Katya held Trixie’s hand as they walked towards Jamestown Road, squeezing past innumerate stalls selling shitty tourist crap or offering piercings and tattoos. Trixie led them, using google maps to navigate them to Mildred’s.

They decided to eat in for their lunch and take away Michelle’s after they’d done. It was Trixie’s revenge for her niceties, apparently. They both ordered the Sri Lankan curry and got juices and water too. They were sat by the large windows so light shone on both their faces. Trixie took her phone off the table and positioned it so the camera tilted down slightly onto Katya. She reached her hand across for Katya to hold and then took a few pictures, Katya peering down at where they touched because it was too bright to look up at the lens.

“What do you think?” Trixie asked after a few minutes fiddling about.

Katya took her phone, inspecting the photo, giving her approval and reading the caption with an affectionate smile. “At a table at a [vegetarian] place, I lose myself into the [water and fresh juice selection].” 

“I’m proud of that one.” Trixie said, laughing despite herself and Katya let out a wheeze, slapping the table and kicking her feet under her chair. 

“Awful!” She exclaimed. 

That neither of them had mentioned their mutual masturbation the night before was a relief to Katya. She didn’t know how to act in any way other than completely normal towards Trixie after it because there was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing that felt weird or bad to her. She assumed Trixie felt the same way else she would have said, would have given her the cold shoulder, surely. She didn’t need to mull over it all - they hadn’t done anything wrong. They were just fucking horny and they had efficiently taken care of it.

They brought Michelle a chick’n burger back and two helpings of tofu with black rice for Amy and Fena. Katya carried a tray of iced coffees from the Caffè Nero a few doors along from Mildred’s and immediately collapsed onto the sofa with hers, gulping her caffeine down before, ironically, falling fast asleep. 

-

“And here we have the corpse of Mr Burns, who’s so excited for our single release that she’s subsequently died.” Katya was only just catching up on everyone’s social media during a lull in soundcheck and Trixie’s Insta stories were a hoot.

Her cackle rang out through the hall. “You cunt!” She called out to Trixie, who was testing out her intro in Yellow Cloud and thus pretended not to hear her, too busy concentrating and consulting with the techies. 

Katya used her spare time to fulfil her duties as a social media star (also known as: doing what Michelle had ordered lest she feel her wrath come down upon her) and watched as the likes, retweets and gushing replies came in. She responded with her favourite emoji, the crying laughing face, to a few funny memes on Twitter and, as soon as she was done, was called up for her parts.

Electric Ballroom was a much bigger venue than everywhere else they had played, apart from The Ritz. It was known for hosting indie, rock, punk and cutting edge acts and Katya felt quite honoured to be playing there too, in the heart of London’s home of the alternative scene. LGSM had infamously hosted their Pits and Perverts benefit for striking miners during the Thatcher era there, amongst countless other instances of musical genius playing out right by the market, by the winding snake of Regent’s Canal. She vowed to wear her most snazzy outfit that night as a means to pay homage to such iconic music legacies. 

Katya was in charge of their pre-show soundtrack, picking the best of Europop to get their energy up and their laughter at full volume, silly dance moves aplenty. The drinks flowed and Naomi and Shea came to join in whenever they could. That night felt like a turning point for the band. Katya didn’t think life could get better than it was then. 

They got ready listening to (or, in the others’ case no doubt, putting up with) Glukoza and t.A.T.u. After pulling on some black tights, Katya chose to wear an outfit she’d been kindly gifted by Discount Universe; a long sleeved mesh crop top with sequin eyes covering most of her bare breasts and a matching sequinned pair of high waisted, super-short shorts. She put on massive sparkly, jewelled earrings and a coordinating choker. 

“Are you trying to blind everyone tonight?” Fena quipped, winking and slipping out for a cigarette. Katya didn’t join her, couldn’t trust herself not to divulge what had happened between her and Trixie if she did. Fena had an uncanny talent for weeding information out of her. 

Trixie didn’t do her makeup that night but Katya used the same eyeshadows to recreate what she’d done. It didn’t look half bad but nowhere near as flawless. Trixie had trained as a hair and makeup artist at the Aveda Institute, after all. 

“Kat, you finished?” Trixie asked as she was applying the last coat of her lipstick. 

“Almost.”

“I’ve got an idea for a photo.”

Katya eyed her from the mirror. She looked incredible. She wore a bright pink sequin dress, which Katya had altered at the hem so it cut up and down her thighs in an irregular pattern, her white platforms with bare legs and white acrylic earrings in the shape of a semicircle. She’d done a pink halo effect on her lids and added white glitter to highlight her inner corners. 

“I’m all yours, then.” Katya opened her arms out wide, standing up and presenting her finished look.

“You look incredible.” Trixie said, eyes roaming over every detail of her outfit.

“So do you.” 

Amy, who had started and finished getting ready earlier than the rest of them, came back in from calling all her friends back home. She told Trixie and Katya that they had been planning a craft night to make her clothes for the next tour and she practically squeaked with excitement as she recounted all their ideas. 

Once she had caught them up on all the gossip from Willam and Kim, Trixie asked her to be their photographer and Amy, predictably, readily agreed. 

“Ok, so I’m thinking, like, y’know those typical straight people artsy movie stills where it’s a shot of just their faces like they’re about to kiss?”

“Ooh, I know what you mean. We need some good lighting for that. Let’s go outside and see if we can get, like, the sun shining through you?” Amy suggested. “Backlit bitches!” 

“Oh my god, this is more effort than anyone on my photography course ever put into their final projects.” Katya joked, loving every second of it.

They joined Fena where she was smoking in an alley, mindful of any fans potentially trying to scope them out. Beams of sunlight coloured the graffitied brick walls of the surrounding buildings a bright, fiery orange and Amy, phone in hand, guided them to position them so half their faces were illuminated and half were shadowed. 

Katya stood toe to toe with Trixie, delicately holding onto her waist and tilting her head up so her lips were level with Trixie’s. Katya felt the heat pelting her skin and she hoped she wouldn’t start visibly sweating before they’d taken the money shot. 

“Right. I think we’re good to go.” Amy announced, raising the phone to the optimal height. “Get closer.” She commanded.

Katya gazed into Trixie’s eyes and grazed her lips against hers, so lightly that their makeup wouldn’t transfer, that Trixie could deny feeling her if she so wished. They weren’t meant to actually kiss, Katya reminded herself, but the suggestion was there for their fans to flail over. Katya briefly forgot that Amy was even with them, too intent on studying every detail of Trixie’s face, noting how her glitter highlight twinkled, how her foundation lay as smooth as silk against her skin. She was so fucking stunning. When Katya remembered why they were positioned so, she mentally commended Trixie for her stroke of artistic genius. She could tell these photos would be out of this world.

“Done!” Amy chirped and instantly showed Trixie her favourite shot. 

“Oh my god! This is perfect!” Trixie screeched, turning her screen towards Katya.

It was. Amy had framed the two of them beautifully, their hair looked big and voluminous and filled the space around them. The shadowed part of Trixie’s face evoked both sensuality and tenderness, a faint smile played upon her open mouth and she somehow managed to look like she wanted to devour Katya whole whilst also appearing as if she’d happily spend her afternoons playing with her hair and rubbing her aching feet. 

Katya studied her own image, how her gaze was directed at Trixie’s lips, how her naturally bumped nose contrasted Trixie’s delicate one, how her harsh lines complemented the fullness of Trixie’s features. They looked gorgeous together and the sun shining through the gaps where it was physically impossible for them to touch only reinforced to her how perfect it was that they were so close, that nothing should or would ever come between them.

Their opening act that evening was the same duo from Glasgow who were staying in London for a while as they had just been offered an extended contract with their label. Before they went to the stage, Amy invited them to drink and celebrate in Contact’s dressing room. They put on some 80s New Wave and Katya kept everyone entertained with some questionable gymnastics routines. Contact decided to watch them perform for a while, downing a couple more drinks than they probably would have on previous dates and Katya laughed at how Amy and Trixie put on Fena’s blazer together and danced around like weird conjoined twins. They were careful enough not to be visible to the waiting crowd, despite their mild inebriation.

When they got their five minute warning, Katya touched up her makeup, pressed some Dermablend onto her shiny forehead and spit out her gum. Trixie came up behind her, first to check her own reflection then to look at her smugly in the mirror.

“What?” Katya asked.

“I’m in the mood to get completely fucked up tonight. If you don’t show me your very best on that stage then I’m going to have to show you what I expect.” 

Oh, Trixie _was_ winding her up, purposefully challenging her by saying the things she knew would raise her hackles, obtusely and brimming with false ignorance to the fact. Katya wouldn’t live it down if she didn’t teach Trixie a lesson or two, owed it to herself to maintain her status as the leader of their game of who could better the other. She admitted that Trixie had been striking hot recently and whether it was on or off stage, Katya strived to get her quaking in her retro patent boots.

Katya glanced around the room surreptitiously and, deciding that Amy and Fena and Michelle didn’t need to witness this, stood, instructing Trixie to come with her. They didn’t have time to go outside so Katya secluded them amongst the billowing black curtains of the side stage. She placed a hand on Trixie’s chest and pushed her against the wall so she let out an unexpected “oof” at the surprise of her back hitting the hard surface. Katya crowded up against her, pressed her hips into Trixie’s and felt how she pushed back, how the both of them always seemed to strive to eradicate distance. 

“I don’t think you’re prepared for my very best.” Katya murmured, coming to run her hand through Trixie’s golden curls, down to where they rested on Trixie’s chest. Katya kept her fingers there, playing with the ends of Trixie’s hair but using that as an excuse to brush against her breasts, watch as her eyelids fluttered. 

“You’re all talk.” Trixie managed and Katya huffed a humourless laugh.

“Seems like my words have a perfectly good effect on you.” It was risky, alluding to what they’d done together in the dark, under the same duvet, but Katya frankly couldn’t give a fuck anymore. She spent too much energy worrying about most other things in life. She’d never needed to truly be anxious over her relationship with Trixie - they had weathered the worst of storms already - and she didn’t plan on starting. Trixie was a constant for her, no matter what.

“Words only say so much.” Trixie whispered, opened her eyes and bore into Katya’s so Katya felt like she’d been stripped naked.

“Mmm. So if I told you now that I would gleefully pull your underwear off and watch you try to play our show completely commando, that wouldn’t be enough?” 

Trixie unabashedly stammered on her harsh exhale, tilted her pelvis up to press even more insistently against Katya. “Kat…” She whined.

“Just something to think about if you start wondering whether I’m doing my ‘very best’ out there.” Katya stepped back with a butter-wouldn’t-melt grin, folding her arms across her body. 

“Oh! There you are.” Amy interrupted, a little out of breath as she must have been scrambling to find them. “We’re on.” 

“This is going to be _wild_.” Katya winked at Trixie, linked her arm in Amy’s and skipped along with her, not looking back at where Trixie was trying to compose herself. 

If they thought their previous crowds were insatiable, they didn’t know what had hit them in London. Almost one thousand five hundred fans screamed the place down as Amy trotted to the front of the stage to blow kisses and Fena made sure to wave to the people standing on the upstairs balcony, pointing her sticks towards a few girls jumping up and down with unfiltered excitement. 

As Katya pulled Trixie into the spotlight behind her, she honestly thought her ears would burst, the cheering was that deafening. Instead of just walking over to her bass, she decided to walk on her hands, wiggling her feet in the air. She was determined to give the best performance of her life and no matter how exhausted she’d be from it, she would pull out all the tricks she could to wow those who had made the effort to come see Contact. 

“Hi, I’m the girl scout merit badge in basket weaving that eludes you to this day - Trixie Mattel.”

“And I’m the human vacuum cleaner with an insatiable hunger for pain - Katya!” 

Their first few songs had gone down a fucking treat. Trixie and Katya introduced Amy and Fena and Katya was delighted to hear the response for each of them was almost as loud as for Trixie and herself. Katya had left Trixie alone to simmer and sober up a little, instead choosing to dance about with Amy as they played and jump off stage to the barriers during their third song. She reckoned that she put so much energy into that track because audiences weren’t as familiar with it yet and she wanted it to be memorable so that when the album was released, fans would recall their live experience of it as it played in their ears, from their speakers at home.

When it came to their fifth track, Katya deemed Trixie ready to be on the receiving end of her sexual advances once more and decided to shake things up a little that night, inspired by what she had to do during their Maida Vale session. She knew her and Trixie’s interactions were the reason fans lost it at this point during the show, of course, but then, for the first proper time, she _felt_ the collective anticipation, like it was thrumming through her veins.

It was more difficult for Katya to shift her bass to her back but she tried regardless. As Amy started playing, Katya sped over to Trixie before she could move first. Trixie still took her mic off her stand and faced her, eyes wide with curiosity, but Katya ensured she stayed frozen to the spot. As Trixie began to sing the first verse to her, Katya touched her forehead gently to Trixie’s and used her left hand, the one the audience could properly see, to run through Trixie’s loose, bouncy curls. She dragged her fingers down the strands framing Trixie’s face and copied the action she had done before they had got on stage, grazing her breast. Katya made a show of biting her lip like she was considering whether to give in to her desires and consequently placed her palm to the curve of Trixie’s chest. 

During the first chorus, Katya rubbed her hand up and down over Trixie’s boobs, never taking her eyes off of Trixie’s. She knew what effect she was having on the crowd but she craved Trixie’s response, only sought out her enjoyment. Trixie slung her arm around Katya’s shoulder, bringing them together, and Katya trailed her hand all the way down until she reached her pubic bone.

Suddenly, she stepped back, adjusted her bass and began to play for the second verse. She stomped in time with Fena’s drum beat to the front of the stage, confident in the fact that Trixie would instantly be behind her. 

Trixie brought her arm around to splay her hand across Katya’s stomach before lifting up her already cropped top to flash her underboob, giving the dykes in the crowd just what they wanted. She sang in Katya’s ear so her nose pushed into the sensitive skin behind her lobe and she flicked her tongue out, whenever she got a chance to take a breath, to lick where the sweat was beginning to drip from Katya’s hairline. She kept her hand up Katya’s top, sliding it in between her breasts and flattening her palm against where her heart was hammering. The sheer material ensured the crowd could see exactly what Trixie was doing and Katya tipped her head back so she could breathe raggedly against Trixie’s cheek.

During the build up towards the next chorus, Katya rocked her ass back and forth into Trixie’s pelvis, a steady rhythm matching that of the song’s. Trixie almost pulled away too late to run back to her mic stand and start playing. She made it just in time yet her vocals were weaker and breathier than usual. Katya dutifully followed her over to play their solos adjoined, together. She knew she had to end it all with a bang so took caution to the wind, aligned their faces for their final bars and licked, achingly slowly, from Trixie’s chin, over the undulation of her bottom lip, and curled her tongue upwards to lift her cupid’s bow. Trixie’s last note rang out and Katya playfully touched her tongue to the tip of her nose before stepping away and being reimmersed into the pandemonium breaking out in the audience. 

Trixie looked winded and Katya smirked all the way back to her pedal board. 

At some point between their tenth song and their final track before they left the stage to prepare for their encore, a group of fans near the front threw a small carton of popcorn to Katya. She bent down to retrieve the pack and instantly tore into it. 

“What are you scoffing down, you fucking raccoon?” Fena asked into the mic to the laughter of the crowd. 

“Your mom’s pussy!” Katya responded, as quick as lightning, causing Trixie to fully bowl over and spin around, screeching with hysteria. Katya watched her fondly and decided to share her goods, jogging over to her with her mouth full. “Can I have a small kiss, mama?” She managed to say into the mic despite barely being able to move her lips, pouting them instead for Trixie. 

Trixie leant in, pretending to be reluctant, and Katya pressed the popcorn against her mouth. “Ew! I knew you were gonna put food in my mouth!” Trixie played up her distaste and the audience lapped it up, some girls at the barrier yelling out incoherent things thinking they could be heard above the noise of the rest of the room. 

“I’m not putting it - I’m just tapping at the door of your love. I want you to open it and then I’ll swallow.” Katya explained, maintaining an act of seriousness.

Trixie laughed and shook her head yet angled her face towards Katya’s. Katya kissed her square on the lips, just for a second, but that was enough for the crowd to erupt into a frenzy.

For the first half of their encore, Contact covered Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time, inspired by Trixie and Katya’s love of the film Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion. Trixie played acoustically and Amy and Fena created a stripped back feel, their simple accompaniments a nod towards the original version whilst not overshadowing Trixie’s gentle finger picking. Katya didn’t play at all during the song, instead bringing comedic value to their performance by dancing interpretively to the lyrics. Her sweeping movements drew inspiration from a mix of ballet and slapstick and kept the audience suitably amused, sometimes distracting Trixie enough for her to miss her lines for laughing. 

Katya really pulled out all the stops in London, rolling around on the floor, collapsing dramatically with her hand on her forehead and incorporating shoulder stands, headstands and handstands with her legs spread-eagled to her routine. She also decided to prance around Trixie a lot more than before, breaking away every now and then to go over to Fena or Amy but focussing the majority of her attention on her favourite blonde bombshell. She wanted Trixie to always be thinking of her, to have her in her peripheral vision both literally and metaphorically.

Katya ended the song sat by Trixie’s feet, hugging her shin. It appeared sweet and cute at first glance but Katya ran her hand up the back of Trixie’s leg to her ass and took a firm grip of her flesh and squeezed, hard, so Trixie yelped into the mic. When Katya stood to go get her bass for Yellow Cloud, Trixie grabbed her arm, pulled her back into her side and spoke into her ear, asking, “Am I a handful?” They laughed at Trixie’s shitty pun and Katya winked as she strutted away, not giving her an answer.

The crowd outside waiting for them at stage door was the largest yet but Michelle told the band that they weren’t to go out to them, to save their energy for the after party. She assured that a lot of them were going to the event in Dalston to assuage some guilt (Katya wasn’t sure if she was being honest or not) and then cleverly distracted them with drinks. She also averted their attention by taking photos on a Polaroid for them to sift through and choose which ones to post on social media, thanking their London fans for such an incredible night.

They packed up their stuff for Michelle to drop off at the flat and, though they didn’t have a lot of time, made the most of the opportunity to drink and dance together to commemorate the overwhelming success of their show. 

By half eleven, security had ensured all the fans had been sent away and Michelle ordered the band an Uber to The Shacklewell Arms. Naomi and Shea were finishing off and would join them soon after. Michelle, on the other hand, decided to get a relatively early turn in, kissed the four of them goodnight and told them to enjoy themselves, that she was proud of what they were doing and that Ru sent his regards. He was also very pleased. Katya, unusually, didn’t doubt that.

The pub was packed when they arrived, the downstairs room filled with a mix of fans, people from the label or the wider scene, and friends of the band. There were a few timid cheers as Contact made their way to the area that had been shoddily cordoned off for them, girls trying to hide their giddiness at being at the same party as their faves, and Katya made sure to wave at the vaguely familiar faces. Some fans had attended multiple tour dates and she appreciated their dedication.

A line of shots was immediately presented to them by Courtney and her pals, who greeted Katya with a high pitched scream and a hug so tight she thought her boobs would end up permanently flat like pancakes. 

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!” Courtney exclaimed over the loud, thumping music. She was surrounded by an older woman with brunette hair and dramatic makeup to rival even Trixie’s, and who wore a stunning long sleeved, cowl neck dress. “This is Ms Bianca Del Rio, she’ll be horrible to you all but that’s how she hides how much of a sweetie she is.” Courtney motioned to the woman who was now rolling her eyes.

“Bonnie Del Rico, nice to meet you.” Katya said purposefully.

The younger woman, who Katya noticed was holding Bianca’s hand, bent over for laughing so much, bringing her palm to cover her mouth.

“I don’t like you, your band is terrible, you should lose your record deal!” Bianca shouted but a clear amusement played upon her face and Katya felt proud to have met her approval, understanding how hard it must be to gain.

“And this is Adore.” Courtney introduced the woman who screamed gorgeous nineties grunge scene wannabe.

“Hey!” She lengthened her pronunciation. “You guys are so cool. I’m a musician too.”

Katya got chatting to the three of them whilst the rest of the band helped themselves to the free alcohol. Courtney caught her up on the latest news - she’d got a new presenting job, hosting a reality programme about bisexual dating for E! and had been in Barcelona for the filming of it. 

“I’m so pleased - it’s going to give bi people a real sense of visibility.” She gushed, her highlight shimmering in the strobe lighting and her hair bouncing as she animatedly talked about when it was due to air and the kinds of people that made up the cast. 

Trixie and Amy, suitably tipsy, soon took to the dance floor. On their way, Trixie passed Katya and motioned for her to join her. Katya signalled back ‘five minutes’ and didn’t catch Courtney’s raised eyebrow until she nudged her as well. 

“What, _what_?” 

Courtney huffed a laugh and leaned in to shout in her ear so there was no chance of Katya misinterpreting her. “Have you two not got it together yet?” 

“You sound like our fans.” 

“You sound like you haven’t answered my question.” Damn, she was quick. Katya had both missed and resented that about her.

“There’s nothing to answer! We’re...us.” Katya shrugged, not wanting to be subject to an onslaught of questioning. It’s not like she hadn’t heard it all before.

Courtney held her hands up. “Alright, if you say so. But why you’re not fucking that hottie with a body is beyond me.” 

The dance floor was packed. As the event had sold out and Michelle had organised for as many friends and acquaintances to be there as possible, there were people everywhere, filling every inch of the room and moving against each other like molecules. When Katya had been sent on her way to join Trixie, it took her almost five minutes. Every fan she passed stopped her to say hello or introduce themselves, which was lovely as everyone was so polite but frustrating when all she wanted to do was dance with her friends.

Upon reaching Trixie, Katya crept up behind her and put her hands on her hips, making her jump. She turned around to scold Katya, eyes soft and movements sloppier now she had downed a few more drinks. “Finally!” She shouted over the music, pulling Katya around to her front and not caring who she knocked into in the process. She saw Amy affectionately roll her eyes as Trixie’s actions blocked her off and huffed a laugh as she made a show of putting herself back in Trixie’s eye line, unbeknownst to her, too determined to get Katya to dance with her.

“It's a good job I love you both so much, you’re so oblivious when you’re together sometimes.” She shook her head but the smile on her face betrayed her. 

“Don’t blame me for this one’s drunkenness!” Katya protested and laughed when Trixie pulled her in closer, sulking. 

The three of them danced together, more and more fans crowding around them, until Katya wanted to go for a smoke, the proximity of everyone else getting a little too much. Trixie said she could do with some fresh air and joined her in the outside smoking area, the night’s breeze cooling them both off as Katya leant against a wall and lit her cigarette, inhaling as deeply as she could. 

“What did Courtney have to say?” Trixie asked, trying to sound casual but Katya knew better - she didn’t want to feel left out of the loop.

Katya filled her in but decided against informing her of being on the receiving end of yet another of Courtney’s inquisitions about the two of them. She knew it came from a place of love and support and because Courtney found them hot together like everyone else who knew of them did. She wasn’t sure how Trixie would take it. Courtney was _Katya’s_ friend and Trixie tended to be hostile towards people she wasn’t already chummy with. As difficult as that could be, Katya also loved when Trixie was a bitch. There was something so fascinating by it, to watch her act so self assured and uncaring. It was kind of sexy. Well, who was she kidding? It was incredibly sexy.

They stayed outside for a good while, ignoring the people around them, chatting inanely and making each other laugh. Katya finished her cigarette and Trixie, staring unfocussedly at a spot next to Katya’s mouth, smiled. Katya raised an eyebrow in questioning and Trixie brought her hand to cup Katya’s jaw. Her heart raced as Trixie caressed her thumb along her cheekbone. “You’ve got a little lipstick smudge.” Trixie mumbled as if she had to justify her behaviour. 

“Get it for me.” Katya ordered and Trixie obeyed, rubbing at the red that must have spread when they were dancing and Katya’s hands had flown all over the place, hitting her own face as well as everyone else around her. 

“I’m really tired but really buzzed.” Trixie said when she’d cleaned Katya up. 

“Me too. I keep thinking about that fucking bathtub.”

“So do I.” Trixie murmured. She ran her hands through Katya’s hair and Katya gripped her sides, squeezed her. Trixie bent to talk in her ear so that all Katya could see and smell and hear and think about was her. “You’re so fucking hot, Kat. I couldn’t care about anything else apart from seeing you get on that stage and owning it and, god, it’s like, yeah you’ve had a few wobbles, but you believe in yourself now and I can’t think of anything that makes me happier. I don’t want to sound patronising and I’m never this nice but let me have this moment, ok, to tell you how proud I am of you and how much you inspire me.” 

Katya’s voice got stuck in her throat as she listened to Trixie and watched her sincerity seep from her. Katya pulled back and took Trixie’s face in her hands. If it was just them, if there was no one else to witness or judge or gossip, she would have kissed her like she had wanted to in the days previously. However, she couldn’t help but be aware of potential snooping eyes, of the fans, and the conversations that would arise. She conveyed all she could through her expression but she knew it was useless. Trixie waited and Katya choked out what she could, “I love you. You’re everything to me.”

Trixie kissed her cheek, long and hard. Katya refused to wipe off the pink imprint there, wearing it like a badge of honour for the rest of the night.

Katya made sure to spend most of the rest of her time with Courtney. They danced and chatted and Katya got to know Adore and Bianca and enjoyed their company, bantering with Bianca and doing as much as possible to make Adore laugh. Fena joined them here and there, the majority of her attention taken up by the people she had invited along. Katya also made a conscious effort to include Amy. Even though Amy had joked about Trixie ignoring her in favour of Katya, it still worried her that one day she might get sick of it, that it would or did genuinely bother her. 

As the DJ was winding down, playing her final tracks, Trixie sought Katya out and asked her to dance, to end their night together. “That’s really rather cute.” Katya replied and held Trixie’s hand, pulling her to a free space on the dance floor. Trixie had stopped drinking after a couple of hours and had done some fan service while Katya was with the others. She said she was ready to go back to the flat as soon as the DJ was done and when Courtney invited them back to hers for an “after afterparty”, Katya politely declined. 

Katya turned around in Trixie’s arms so her ass pressed against Trixie’s crotch. She swayed her hips to the beat and Trixie followed her movement, gripping tightly at her waist and sliding her hands further around every so often to feel up her thighs, her stomach. Katya wanted to spin them, bend her over right there and then and shove her hand down her knickers. She’d not explicitly had that thought before and it should have scared her, to feel herself getting wet from her best friend’s touches, to have that desperate, animalistic need to take her and fuck her and make her beg for every little scrap of attention. She wasn’t scared. She was ravenous.

On the edge of her periphery, she caught Amy and Fena watching them, whispering to each other. She closed her eyes, only listened to the music, only felt Trixie’s breath on her neck and her roaming hands and her breasts against her back and the entirety of her making her ache between her legs.

The four of them piled into an Uber straight outside of the pub. Katya sat up front with the driver, unable to trust herself otherwise, her desire to be with Trixie all consuming. Amy drunkenly chattered away with Trixie and Fena fiddled on her phone. Katya didn’t know whether she had created an aura of tension in her mind or if it was as apparent to the others as well. She wondered if Trixie could sense her thoughts and her longing even without them looking at each other. 

Katya pulled her own phone out, texting Courtney to thank her for coming and that it was nice to meet Adore and Bianca. Then, she received a message from Fena. 

“Anything you want to tell me?” It read.

She didn’t glance back to her, didn’t want to risk the (admittedly small) chance of Trixie cottoning on to their secret conversation. 

“I want her.”

“That’s putting it lightly…”

Katya inhaled sharply. “I’m going to regret asking this, I’m sure, but: what do you mean?”

“You’re a useless, dumbass lesbian and you’re a total idiot but you’re also a grown fucking woman so figure it out yourself, bitch. You’re getting there.”

Katya huffed, sent a string of relevant emojis back and pocketed her phone. Stupid Fena and her cryptic messages. And unlimited patience.

-

“Oh god, that feels so good.” Katya groaned, wiping away all her makeup with Trixie’s micellar water and Albolene cleanser. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the bathroom mirror, their hair tied up and out of their faces. Trixie applied her oils and moisturisers to her fresh, bare skin and Katya tried not to stare too much, itched to get out of her uncomfortable clothes and get in the bath and get off.

The claw foot tub was large and grand and Katya turned the hot water on, trying to fill it as quickly as possible. Trixie wandered out of the bathroom and Katya took her top off, flinging it aside, the mesh having become irritable and constricting against her underarms and damp chest. She tipped in a generous amount of bubble bath and watched the water rise, the steam floating and heating the rest of the space before it spread to follow Trixie’s path out of the open door leading to their bedroom.

She got in as soon as she knew she wouldn’t completely cook herself, eagerly easing herself lower beneath the suds and exhaling, relishing in the warmth soothing her muscles. She tipped her head back against the edge of the bath, ran her hands up her front, careful to avoid her sensitive nipples, and back down to rest at her sides. She strained to listen to what Trixie was doing and tried her best not to lose her mind to the fantasies flitting through it at a mile a minute. She took deep breaths, fixed her gaze on a spot on the ceiling to try and relax. 

Trixie appeared mere minutes later. She had changed out of her clothes and put on Katya’s silk robe. Katya couldn’t tell if she was wearing anything underneath it. Her mouth went dry. 

“Good bath?” Trixie asked, feigning a casual tone as she looked down upon Katya, her hair still in a big pile on the top of her head, her skin glowing from her routine. Katya’s robe did very little to cover Trixie’s cleavage and it was a few inches shorter up her legs, so teasing and sexy that Katya felt like she was using up all her remaining energy to refrain from tearing the damn thing off her. Katya was pretty sure her own nakedness was adequately covered thanks to the bubble bath but a thrill passed through her nonetheless at the possibility that Trixie could see every intimate part of her.

“Why don’t you come and find out for yourself?” Katya heard herself say, her rapid heartbeat deafening in her own ears. 

Trixie blushed profusely but stood tall and smirked, like she’d got what she was hankering after. Katya watched with bated breath as she played with the tie around her waist before shifting to the other side of the bath to give her room, so she didn’t have to sit on the plug or near the tap. Trixie barked an unexpected laugh at her consideration. “Aren’t you the gentleman, hmm?”

“Don’t say I don’t treat you.” Katya quipped. She bit her lip as Trixie shimmied the robe down her shoulders, slowly exposing her exquisite decolletage. Then, she properly tugged at the bow she had made and the material fell away, dropping to the floor soundlessly. “Holy fuck.” Katya audibly gasped, winded by Trixie’s incomprehensible beauty, and clenched her fists because her hands felt empty without a part of Trixie to hold onto. 

Trixie gingerly stepped towards the bath, hips swaying. Katya didn’t know where to look as Trixie raised her leg to step in, her thick thighs pale and strong, her shins freshly shaved that morning. Katya usually didn’t bother herself but looking at Trixie’s smooth skin made her understand her preference. The rolls of her stomach when she bent over to brace herself against the side drove Katya crazy. Trixie kept her legs tightly together before she sank her body beneath the surface of the water, the suds covering her breasts and arms. When Katya’s brain finally caught up with the sight before her and registered that Trixie’s pubic hair was shaved in the shape of a heart, she thought she was having a stroke. 

Fuck, she wanted her. She wanted her more than she had ever wanted anything before and she yearned to remember this moment for the rest of her life because she was almost certain that she would never experience anything so perfect ever again. 

Trixie sighed pleasurably as she settled into her position, making sure she wasn’t touching Katya at all. She looked like a goddess who had decided to grace the earth with her presence for a little while for she had nothing better to do than to be admired and fawned over. That was Trixie, her Trixie, the one that nobody else saw but Katya, before her - her sexuality as natural as the moon and stars and as radiant as the sun. 

An idea played in Katya’s mind and, silently, steadily, she lifted herself up to sit on the rim of the bathtub and stretch so she could reach her phone, which she had left on the counter top. 

“What are you doing?” Trixie asked, warily.

“Taking a picture of you.” Katya humoured her. She knew what Trixie would be thinking, what she would vehemently protest against. She sat tall, thighs pressed together so as not to give Trixie any kind of glimpse, and raised her phone in front of her face to get the best angle for her shot.

“You’re not posting that.” 

“No I’m not.” Katya explained simply as she took a burst of photos and smirked at Trixie pretending not to pose, cocking her head a certain way as to accentuate her jawline, adjusting her posture so her chest stuck out invitingly and smouldering like she did whenever she wanted Katya to watch her do something risqué. She looked at Trixie through her screen, the humidity starting to create coloured pixels where her fingers had been. “This is just us, just for us.”

Katya leant back over the side to put her phone down, her abs tensing. She took a deep breath and turned back to face Trixie, who was drinking her in. The cool porcelain of the tub wasn’t the most comfortable thing to be sat on but she liked the view from up there, enjoyed the advantage of being above Trixie, of the height enabling her to assert an added control over what was unfolding between them. She bowed to cup her hands in the water and brought it all over her breasts, keeping herself warm. She felt the droplets travel downwards and noted how Trixie tracked their path, how she stared at where they landed in her lap, in her pubic hair, and subconsciously licked her lips, her breath laboured.

“Did I do my ‘very best’ tonight?” Katya asked her, wanting to embarrass her a little.

Trixie groaned, her cheeks colouring again as she looked down at herself, unable to maintain Katya’s gaze. “You’re not gonna let me forget that, are you?”

“Only if you show me your very best right now.” Katya replied and coughed pointedly, awaiting Trixie’s full attention. Once Trixie raised her head and her eyes were on her, Katya spread her legs, tentatively raising her right foot to balance on the side of the bath, giving Trixie an even better view.

“Oh my—” Trixie swallowed her words, flustered more than Katya had ever seen her. She brought her hands to cover her face and Katya understood that it was not to shield herself or to rid herself of the sight Katya had presented before her, but to contain her reaction, her evident arousal.

Katya rested her weight on her hands, tilted her pelvis further forward so Trixie could see every inch of her cunt when she was ready to. She couldn’t wait to have Trixie’s mouth on her and felt the first bead of her wetness drip out of her at the mere thought. “Come here.” She commanded, shocked that she was managing to keep her voice level.

Trixie gripped each side of the tub and hoisted herself forwards. She crawled on her knees over to where Katya was waiting for her and sat back on her heels, mouth agape as she stared, wide eyed. The water sloshed around Trixie’s hips and Katya watched her quiver, took her heated face in her hands and soothed her flaming cheeks. She rubbed their noses together tenderly and Trixie’s eyes fluttered shut as she visibly calmed in Katya’s care. Once she was satisfied that Trixie was alright, she slid a hand to the back of her head, tugged her hair ever so slightly to angle her face up towards hers, and kissed her.

She pressed her lips against Trixie’s, much fuller and softer like the rest of her, and licked into her mouth. She sucked on her bottom lip and tried not to overpower her with her reactions, the sensation of Trixie’s tongue against hers threatening to spill out of every single one of her pores. Goosebumps raised on her arms but she wasn’t cold, she was burning up from Trixie’s high pitched whimpers, the way she kissed so deeply yet so gently too, the way she willingly gave herself over so completely.

Katya caught her breath, tearing herself away just for a second. She thumbed Trixie swollen, glistening lips, her cunt throbbing from the knowledge that she had done that to her, had ravished her and she hadn’t even really started yet.

Trixie whispered, “Kiss me again.” Katya wouldn’t have ever dreamt of denying her. Her position was awkward, leaning over her spread legs, but she couldn’t care less. She would have happily walked over hot coals, done whatever extreme activity required to have the chance to kiss Trixie once more. 

Katya’s kiss was harder the second time, it pushing Trixie back so she had to scramble behind her to plant her hand on the side of the tub. Katya moaned as Trixie bit down on her lip and Katya gave back as good as she was getting, giving her a taste of just what her tongue was capable of in other places as well. 

If her butt bones weren’t practically crunching against the rim of the bath, Katya would have spent hours upon heavenly hours kissing Trixie. She tightened her grip on Trixie’s hair to pull them apart. Trixie looked dazed, barely able to focus on Katya’s face mere inches from hers and complained, calling Katya cruel for depriving her of something so addictive. 

“I want your mouth all over me.” Katya said to assuage her, caressing her face with her nose. She meant it, nevertheless - what Trixie had been doing on stage and what had ignited between them off of it was inspiring all kinds of primal urges in her that were just waiting to be fully realised.

“Let me. Please.” Trixie’s feeble voice cracked before she surged at Katya, kissing her over and over until they were both dizzy from it. 

Katya grabbed Trixie’s shoulders, keeping her back when she made the move to kiss her again. Face close to Trixie’s but not enough for their lips to meet, Katya bore into her eyes, asserted herself and her intentions and her overwhelming desires and, god, she needed Trixie’s tongue on her cunt immediately and she didn’t care how needy she might have sounded - Trixie deserved to know just what she did to her.

Katya leant back properly, then, adjusting her position to give her a bit of relief but keeping her hips forward enough for Trixie to take the hint, to have access. 

When Katya had stilled, Trixie placed her hand on Katya’s knee, her other grasped Katya’s ankle where it was propped up on the porcelain ledge. She raised up off her heels and Katya stared at the water rushing off her body. Trixie slid her hand up Katya’s thigh, up to where her pubic hair began. She lowered her face so Katya could feel her breath against her pussy and Katya tensed from unbridled anticipation, Trixie looking up at her through her lashes the prettiest sight, simultaneously innocent and tantalising. 

“Eat me out right now.” Katya demanded and Trixie moaned, diving in straight away like all she needed was telling, needed the confirmation that this was what she was made to do. 

Trixie’s nose dragged over Katya’s mons as she sucked on her clit like she was kissing it. Her tongue swirled in a bewitching pattern, leaving Katya completely open and defenceless. Vulnerable. She forced herself to keep her eyes wide so she could be certain that what was happening was real and so she could watch Trixie do everything she could to ensure Katya’s utmost pleasure. Katya keened and Trixie applied more pressure in response, focussing all her attention on the bundle of nerves between Katya’s legs.

It wouldn’t take long, Katya thought briefly before her entire conscious mind was eradicated by Trixie’s tongue making a figure of eight around her clit. She eased off, her hungry licks morphing into teases, mere suggestions at what she might do next, what she was exploring so as to please Katya more than anyone else. “So good.” Katya moaned, her whole weight now leaning on one arm as she brought her other hand into Trixie’s hair. She closed her fist, trapping some of the gorgeous blonde strands in Trixie’s messy bun between her fingers, just enough so it might hurt a little, might awaken something in Trixie like it had in her.

Trixie pulled away to take a proper breath, her face wet with Katya’s arousal. She smiled, like she knew how fucking sexy she looked, like she wanted Katya to tell her. 

“Kiss me again.” Katya said, bringing her leg down, back into the water, and gripping Trixie’s hair even harder, angling her face to hers instead of her pussy. Trixie whimpered like she was destitute and Katya kissed her so intensely so as to remind her that nothing Katya gave her was second rate. Every little piece of her was a gift to be cherished. Together, they were a rarity beyond value. 

“You should know, I could keep you here for hours. It wouldn’t matter if the water went cold or your knees started to hurt.”

Trixie murmured against Katya’s lips. “Are you going to?” 

“No. I want you to lie back and I’m going to sit on your face and you’re going to finish me off.”

Trixie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she bit her lip, a strangled sound escaping her. Katya, still sat rather primly on the rim of the tub, lifted her foot to press against the centre of Trixie’s chest, press backwards until she got the hint and scrambled to reposition herself so her legs weren’t bent awkwardly behind her. Trixie bracketed Katya’s feet with her legs, slowly opening them so her knees rested against the sides of the bath. Katya tested the temperature and decided to taunt Trixie just a little bit in return by taking the time to add more hot water. The tap gushed and, despite the noise of it, all Katya could hear were Trixie’s laboured breaths and her desperate, stifled sighs. 

When Trixie’s hand wandered down her own body as she waited, Katya kicked it away. “No.” She forbid. 

“But—”

“I said no.” Katya smirked. Trixie bucked her hips, the water distorting Katya’s view of her. She turned off the tap and the room plunged into silence save for the water lapping at Trixie’s body. Katya stood up and stepped each said of Trixie’s shoulders, giving her the view she’d surely been after all those nights when she had got on her knees and looked up her dress and reached up to touch but only got so far. Surely she’d wanted this before now because Katya felt like they had been engaged in the longest foreplay on earth. 

Lowering down to her knees, Katya checked Trixie wouldn’t drown if she placed her weight on her. The idea made her chuckle and, when Trixie asked her what was funny, she shook her head, placed a gentle kiss in Trixie’s hair to distract her, her breasts encompassing her vision. Trixie took the opportunity presented to her and cupped each of her boobs in her hands, squeezing ferociously and causing Katya to yelp. Trixie took her nipple into her mouth and sucked, hard, so fucking hard that Katya moaned louder than she had allowed herself to so far. Trixie eased her mouth off of her, a trail of spit lingering to connect them, yet kept her hands firmly where they were.

Katya arranged herself over Trixie’s face, parting her thighs enough for Trixie to see more of her than she ever had before, see the wetness in her folds before she could taste it again, see how swollen she was for her. Trixie tilted her head back, parted her lips and darted out her tongue, curling it in a way that Katya knew would feel fucking exquisite against her cunt. Her muscles strained to keep her distance and her kneecaps dug into the hard porcelain of the tub but nothing could detract from that positively opulent moment.

Trixie strained to touch her and Katya couldn’t hold back anymore. Katya sat down, her weight fully pressed against Trixie’s chin and cheeks and her tongue immediately pushed up against her. Katya couldn’t see exactly what she was doing but she felt more than enough to be satisfied for the rest of her days. Trixie flattened her tongue as Katya began to ride her, rocking her hips back and forth so Trixie could meet her thrusts with a consistent force. They both quickened their pace, in tune with each other’s rhythms just as much as they were in the recording studio or on stage or in front of the camera, bantering and laughing and, god, this felt as natural as all that did, but better, unfathomably better, and Katya began to moan at each and every one of Trixie’s licks until she went utterly wild on her cunt, eating her out with everything she had and seemingly rubbing her entire face in between her legs.

Katya didn’t think twice about the others in the flat, raising onto her knees and bringing herself back down emphatically on Trixie’s hungry open mouth, faster and faster, until the heat and tightness in her stomach piqued and she came with a scream, curving her body, her chest, her heart, upwards as if her orgasm was the pathway to heaven. “Fuck!” 

Trixie licked at her gently through the aftershocks, jolts and waves of them coming long after Katya had. It was only then that Katya began to realise how tired her muscles were, how her knees would no doubt be bruised the following morning. She carefully lay herself down on top of Trixie in the water, noticing where most of Trixie’s hair had gotten soaked, even the top of her bun somehow. Trixie’s eyes were closed, like she had just had a religious experience. Katya pressed a trail of kisses up the side of her neck, under her jaw, to her cheek and back down to her pulse point where she lingered, feeling her heartbeat. 

“Now you’ve shown me how good you are, you were right. I couldn’t ever have imagined that.” Katya whispered in Trixie’s ear. Trixie opened her eyes in response and brought their lips together. They both stared at each other whilst kissing, Katya checking once more that this was actually happening, that Trixie was present and tangible and hers right then.

Trixie shivered and Katya noticed the goosebumps rising on her arms. “Let’s get you to bed.” She said, giving her one more kiss before pulling herself up, ensuring she didn’t accidentally step on Trixie beneath her. 

As they dried themselves off, there was an impenetrable tension. Katya couldn’t pinpoint if it was because Trixie was waiting for her to make a move or if the weight of what they had started was applying its pressure to their shoulders, their conscience. Katya hoped that it wasn’t the latter. She couldn’t fathom how fucking Trixie, having Trixie touch her, was improper or went against the natural order of things. They melded together so perfectly in both body and mind. 

Trixie dried the back of her neck and rearranged her bun so there were no flyaways. Katya came up behind her and kissed her nape, moving lower down her spine, in between her shoulders, down the curve of her lower back to her ass. There, she kissed each cheek and, crouching, she brought her hands around to grip her hips and lovingly squeeze her pudge. 

“Katya…” Trixie whimpered and Katya knew she was beyond desperate now. She took a peak between her legs, saw the wetness there that hadn’t been wiped away when she’d dried herself or, Katya smugly smirked at the thought, had dripped down after. Katya pulled her along to their bed. _Their_ bed. As Katya’s bunk had been theirs too.

At the foot of it, Katya took Trixie’s face in her hands and kissed her as passionately as she could to show her that what was unfolding between them was so fucking beautiful, to show her that she was going to take care of her in ways beyond Trixie’s comprehension. Their naked bodies aligned and Trixie’s nipples hardened against Katya’s chest and when Katya licked into her mouth again, Katya felt her go limp, respond openly and eagerly to her affections once more.

She lay her down, arranged her so her knees were bent and her feet were planted flat against the mattress. Trixie's breasts, large and pale, flopped each side of her chest in a way that got Katya hot and bothered all over again. She loved that Trixie’s body was so unlike her own, that she could list the many differences in wonder at how it was possible for people to have their humanity link them together so closely and yet be so varied in their appearances and natures. Trixie was like no other and Katya hoped she suitably treated her like the one of a kind she was. 

“Kat,” Trixie breathed, “If you’re just gonna stare at me and not actually touch me, I’m never going to speak to you ever again.” 

Katya wheeze laughed before schooling her features into a sympathetic expression. “Do you really think I would leave you high and dry?”

“I’m feeling more low and wet right now, actually.” Trixie quipped, causing them both to burst out into hysterics. 

Katya crawled over her and lowered her body to fit against Trixie’s, holding her weight on her forearms. She kissed her quiet. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to think about anything else during our gig tomorrow and during our interview with the fucking _Guardian_.” She kept her lips close to Trixie’s. “You’re going to see your photo on their website and you’ll be able to read it all over your face - where your mind was at - and thousands of other people will too.”

Katya didn’t wait for Trixie’s response. She trailed her hand down her body and kissed her again as she slid two fingers straight into her entrance, so wet that there was no friction at all. She crooked them, feeling the minute bumps and ridges of her walls, and set a steady pace. 

Trixie moaned, unabashedly, and Katya took that as all the permission she needed to push her fingers in to the knuckle, to rub her with more force, to fuck her as hard as she promised. Trixie didn’t have the capacity to kiss her back anymore but that didn’t deter Katya. She kissed her slack mouth and sucked on her bottom lip whilst she brought her fingers out of Trixie, jamming them back in almost instantaneously. Trixie called out again, Katya’s kisses barely muffling the sound. 

Katya quickened her pace furthermore, Trixie’s boobs jiggling from the impact and her head coming close to hitting the headboard. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Katya whispered against her lips, angling her hand so Trixie could get some friction against her clit when she raised her hips. 

“I’m close. Faster.” Trixie bit out and Katya looked down at where she was inside her, at where they connected. Her entire arm ached from her erratic movements but Trixie’s moans got louder and more regular and her thighs shook, her face reddening and creasing from the tension taking a hold of her whole body.

Trixie came with three of Katya’s fingers inside her, with her tongue in her mouth and her body pressed against her and Katya felt like she might have been smothering her for all she knew, too intent on bringing them together as close as physically possible and holding her with all her might. 

They didn’t sleep for a while after. They didn’t talk much either. Katya peppered Trixie’s gradually cooling skin with gentle kisses and watched as she tried not to smile too much. Then, Katya spooned her, breathing in the scent of her hair, the scent of _her_, running her hands down her arms, wrapping her own tightly around Trixie’s middle. 

Trixie reminded Katya to set an alarm for midday so they had enough time before getting picked up to look somewhat presentable for their Doc Martens acoustic set. Katya cursed her for making her get out of their bed, out of their shared warmth, to find her phone amongst the messy pile of her stuff on the floor. 

She had a notification from Amy, which she swiped away to sneakily set her alarm for half twelve instead, Trixie be damned. Before putting her phone on charge, she checked if Amy’s message was important (her anxiety wouldn’t have let her sleep otherwise). Opening up iMessage, she saw a link to a YouTube video titled ‘Trixya Moments’, the thumbnail a still of hers and Trixie’s faces pressed together during their Manchester gig. Amy, along with a string of different coloured heart emojis, wrote, “Something for you to watch. It’s so sweet! Might help you out too…Love you!” 

She put her phone down, kicking herself for making the decision to look because now, instead of wondering what Amy’s message said, she was left trying to figure out what it meant. Amy and Fena had both been suspicious that night, clearly discussing her, and Katya couldn’t help but think they were trying to give her help and advice in the most inconspicuous way possible whilst still letting her know they understood what was going on. It all felt childish and unnecessary. But if they were both at it, maybe there was something to it? What exactly were they getting at?

She got back into bed and cuddled up to Trixie, tucking her chin over her shoulder and kissing behind her ear. Her spot, first and foremost, no matter if they fucked or didn’t. 

“Everything alright?” Trixie asked, voice low and muffled because she had smashed her face into her pillow - the recognisable sign that she was more than ready to drop off. 

“Yeah, all good.” She whispered back, trying her hardest not to question her own statement. She kissed Trixie again, her heart fluttering in response when she pulled Katya’s arms tighter around her, linking her fingers in between Katya’s. Trixie brought their hands to her lips and kissed Katya’s knuckles before placing them over her bare chest. 

Katya ached, as if she hadn’t touched every part of Trixie that night. The words from Amy’s message were all that she could see when she closed her eyes. She watched Trixie fall asleep, instead, mapping every detail of Trixie’s body she could, memorising what they had done together and replaying it all over and over so there was no chance she would forget. In case it was the first and last time. In case she had completely ruined everything.


	6. London (Night 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, 12.1k words - this kicked my ass, ngl lol. Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoy this chapter and that I've done the story proper justice with it...

The blaring alarm rang out. Katya woke to an empty bed and instantly took it as a bad omen. She had slept fitfully in the early hours of the morning, watching over Trixie like a hawk, like she would disappear before her very eyes. She didn’t know when she finally drifted off but she cursed the fact that she did, for she missed the moment Trixie left and now it felt like she’d gone forever.

Nothing about Amy’s message in any way indicated something terrible was going to happen and the problem Katya suffered with was that her anxiety created all sorts of worst case scenarios - when something arose, she had to wade through a sea of misconceptions and half formed imaginings before she could determine for sure whether everything was going to shit in reality or just in her mind. That afternoon, the churning in her stomach told her all the falsehoods it possibly could, but her intuition was attuned. 

Despite needing to see Trixie, to determine just how the day would play out, she took her time to get ready, to compose herself. She didn’t let herself even look at the fucking bath tub. 

Taking the boxes of Docs off the top of the dresser by the window, which overlooked a road leading the way to Regent’s park, Katya focussed on putting together her outfit for the acoustic gig. Doc Martens had kindly gifted her two pairs of platform styles - Jadon and Molly. The latter caught Katya’s eye instantly because of the rainbow stitching around the black patent leather front and the black satin ribbon that had been fed through as laces. 

The weather outside was apparently really good, for London standards. Katya remembered how Courtney complained that anything over thirty celsius in the city was pure hell because absolutely nowhere had aircon and everything felt so close since the towering buildings were not only packed together but were also built specifically to keep heat in, not out. That Saturday, the sun was shining and Katya’s phone told her it was a very pleasant twenty five. 

She finally decided on the black crop top she’d worn at Maida Vale, the leather skirt she’d worn for the YouTube video interview in Brighton and an oversized, hooded shawl she’d made. Its pattern was an eye-sore of black and white zig zag stripes finished off by a trim of red tassles. She insisted that, though wearing The Black Lodge itself was impossible, she could always channel a little Twin Peaks wherever she went. 

She couldn’t be bothered doing her full makeup, so she put on some concealer in an attempt to hide the fact that her anxiety had wreaked havoc on her getting any kind of proper rest, some mascara and her trusty red lipstick. She resolutely did not think about Trixie running her finger across her lip before she applied it for her, just like she did not think about how fucking wonderful it was to fuck her and be fucked by her, to kiss her and feel her tongue against her own. 

She gathered everything she needed for the rest of the day (a few outfit options for The Guardian, her phone and charger, copious amounts of plasters in preparation for the infamous pain that Docs caused when being broken in, and her deodorant and perfume). In a last minute decision, she took one of the necklaces a fan had given to Trixie on their last tour that she liked to wear off stage, opting for bigger, more glaring pieces or nothing at all when performing. Katya fixed it around her neck, hoping to keep a little piece of Trixie near, if nothing else.

Treading as quietly as possible, Katya walked slowly down the corridor that she had barely taken in in the darkness of the previous night. She hadn’t even seen where the kitchen was but reckoned that the others would be in the lounge where Fena had spent the night. As she approached the doorway, she heard the three voices she had come to know sometimes better than her own. She lingered so she wouldn’t be seen, reasoning with herself that it was best to scope out the general mood of the others before thrusting her jittery apprehensiveness upon them all. 

“Trix, we wouldn’t be saying all this if we didn’t think there was something to it. You know how she is.” Amy’s voice sounded out and Katya couldn’t ascertain whether her pleading tone was purposeful or not.

“I don’t know, though, that’s the thing. I don’t know a fucking thing with her, with this.” Oh god. Fuck. Trixie was mad. Or perhaps worse. She was _sad_. 

“You’ve got to talk to her.” Fena tried.

“No.” Trixie responded harshly, cutting Fena off. “_She’s_ got to talk to _me_. I’m not chasing her up anymore.”

Katya leant against the wall, like all her energy had been sapped out of her and there wasn’t an ounce of it left to keep her going. Her vision blurred and she felt like she’d been dunked underwater, barely hearing a thing but the muffled thud of her pulse, the echo of Trixie’s evident despair at what they’d done. 

“Anyway, I’ve gotta go get ready. Shit, we’re gonna be late. Thanks for your help, guys.” 

Katya didn’t have time to compose herself, to pretend like she was only just coming down the hallway. She was caught like a deer in the headlights and she pictured herself ending up torn apart like roadkill, Trixie towering above her, deciding whether to stitch her back together or leave her there for good. 

She must have surprised Trixie as well, for her eyes widened and she came to an abrupt stop in her path, and it would have been comical but for the fact that Katya could see how she couldn’t disguise her turmoil, so caught off guard that she didn’t even try. It only occurred to her then that Trixie might have been carrying this feeling - whatever it was - for much longer than Katya had ever been aware of. “I don’t know a fucking thing with her.” She’d said. That implied older resentments. _Fuck_. 

For an unbearable moment, they just stared at each other. Time stood as still as Katya did.

“We’ll— Talk to me later when you’re up to it.” Trixie corrected herself. All Katya could do was nod dumbly before she watched Trixie sprint past her to their bedroom and close the door.

She turned back to where Trixie had stood to find Fena and Amy. They each took one of her arms and dragged her to sit down on the edge of the sofa bed Fena had slept in. Sandwiched between them, barely feeling Amy rubbing up and down her back, she desperately looked between the two of them and tried to formulate something worthwhile to say. “Can someone please just tell me what the hell is going on?”

Fena and Amy were both dressed and ready. Amy had toned down her makeup by far and wore a short baby pink strappy dress with her cowboy boots, her hair hanging in loose, natural waves. Katya wanted to be in the mindset to compliment her. Her head was too full of _Trixie_. 

“Why don’t you tell us what happened last night, so we know what we’re working with here.” Fena suggested.

Katya buried her face in her hands but started explaining nonetheless, recounting everything in as much detail as she could when her mind was fighting against her. 

“I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking I’ve fucked everything up. And now I have and I don’t even know why or how or if I can even fix this and - this is what’s messing with me - is that _not once_ last night did anything seem wrong. It felt so...natural. Natural! She was nervous, I think, but not in a way that signified, uh, uh, deep trouble or torment or I wouldn’t have gone through with it and she wouldn’t have, y’know, done what she did. So what’s suddenly changed?”

“We can’t tell you that, Kat. You heard her, you’ve got to communicate.” Fena advised, always so sensible. “I did say…” She rolled her eyes, omniscient but affectionate at the same time, making sure Katya could see her face so she would know she wasn’t being an inconsiderate dick, rubbing it in for the sake of it.

“It’s a big thing for her.” Amy added. “Like it’s a big thing for you.” She rushed to say, anticipating Katya jumping on that piece of information, ready to pull it apart. “You’re best friends, you’re Trixie and Katya, y’know? You’ll be ok if you don’t hide away from it.” 

Katya nodded. “What else did she say?” 

Fena bumped her shoulder against Katya’s. “We’re not her messengers. Just fucking speak to her, you idiot.” 

“God, you two are the best people in the world. Thank you for knocking sense into me, like always. I hope you know how much I appreciate it and I know I’m self involved and narcissistic and a bit selfish but you get it. So…that’s all I can ever ask for. And I don’t ever need to actually ask! _Huh_!” She shook her hands in the air.

Trixie reemerged just in time for them all to be taken to the space in Camden Market that Doc Martens had rented for the event. The room held less than a hundred people and sign ups for tickets had been made live weeks in advance. Allocation of tickets was given randomly to ninety people who had applied in time and they were greatly sought after because the result of the process was so uncertain. Michelle had mentioned how hundreds of people had signed up, with some even hoping to come from another country to get a glimpse of Contact as they’d never seen them before. The band hadn’t ever publicly played an acoustic set.

Trixie had been given a pair of white lace up brogues with a red heart near the toe. She paired them with a cute red and white gingham short sleeved dress and styled her hair in a neat, long braid down her back. Trixie had once recounted, doing a perfect country bumpkin impression, how a man had tried to chat her up when she was wearing that dress, complimenting her “picnic print”. Katya had howled. That afternoon, Trixie’s makeup was a lot less dramatic than usual but she had still made sure to do her brows and apply her stacked lashes and pink lipstick. She looked beautiful. She looked worn down. Katya’s heart ached. 

The ride to the venue was short and silent. Katya knew she was responsible for the unpleasant atmosphere and the guilt made her feel nauseous. She closed her eyes and leant against the window of their vehicle, thinking over their set and the order of her bass lines to try and coax her mind towards the band’s performance and away from self loathing. Trixie sat up front. Katya felt the distance between them like a gaping wound.

There wasn’t a stage, they discovered upon arrival, but a space cleared at the front of the room for them. Naomi and Shea helped them configure and they all decided that they would sit on chairs in a line; Amy on the far left with Trixie and Katya in the middle and Fena on the far right. Trixie had her Gibson acoustic, Katya had her bass as usual, Amy had just one synth and Fena had her Roland sampling pad and a tambourine. Naomi and Shea were finished setting up in no time and all that was left to do was tune and warm up before the doors were opened.

Trixie resolutely didn’t even glance Katya’s way.

With ten minutes to spare, Katya knew she wouldn’t be able to go on if she didn’t do something. Wrapping her arms around herself, staring blankly at a scuff on the grey concrete floor, she listened to Amy and Fena’s voices in her head, tried to amplify them over her own which told her she wasn’t good enough to even breathe the same air as Trixie, that she was only ever going to do stupid things and ruin the special bond they shared because she was still a mess, despite the rehab and the help from her friends and family and the steps she had taken to amount to something beyond an anxious addict. 

“I need to talk to you.” She bounded clumsily up to Trixie, who was conversing quietly with Naomi and Shea, their heads close together. Trixie looked at her properly for the first time that day, piercing her, turned back to Naomi and Shea as if to check for their reactions or approval, then wordlessly led her aside to a secluded, empty corner beyond the makeshift stage area they had created. Katya had her back turned to the rest of the space but felt everyone’s eyes on her nonetheless. 

Trixie rested against the wall, her head tipping back like she was too weary to hold it up herself. Katya inhaled a deep breath and took a step closer so their stomachs were almost touching. It was brave of her but she couldn’t imagine existing alongside Trixie and not having the ability, the permission, to reach out, to hold her, in whatever capacity or manner. 

“Go on then.” Trixie prompted, her outward expression of impatience a mask for the discomfort of the whole situation. Katya could read her like a book. She never wanted to put her down.

“I just...I’ve upset you and I don’t know how to undo it or make it all alright again and I’m sorry - _I am sorry_ \- for what I’ve done if it’s fucked everything up. You know I rarely apologise for my shit but I’m doing it here and now because this is fucking serious, Trix. I’ve barely been awake a couple of hours and I’m already going fucking _crazy_ because you’re not _you_ and we’re not _us_ so I absolutely could not handle losing what we had before last night for the rest of our fucking lives if I’m already driven to madness now. Just...Please tell me what to do so we can sort this out.” 

Trixie sighed and looked up to the ceiling as if to compose herself. Katya had only ever seen her do that before when she was trying not to cry. The panic heightened within her.

“Why should I tell you what to do? You should fucking know, that’s…” Trixie’s voice broke. “That’s the problem. I know, you don’t. You should fucking know by now.”

Katya grabbed onto Trixie’s arms as if to anchor herself. She was desperate and shaking and she must have looked completely deranged as she clung onto Trixie for dear life. It was a miracle that Trixie didn’t squirm out of her grasp. She felt her palms become damp with sweat, the skin at the back of her neck get prickly and irritating and her knees buckle together as she searched for something in Trixie’s eyes to give her a clue. Everyone was speaking in riddles, in a language Katya didn’t understand. It gave her an immeasurable sense of isolation - Trixie, Amy and Fena all seemed to be in on something and were waiting for the ball to drop. Katya was left to fend for herself and _she couldn’t_.

Squeezing Trixie’s bicep couldn’t tether her. She was alone in this and the mystery and uncertainty shook her to her core.

“Baby, please.” She whispered, crestfallen and weak. “Please can we talk this through.”

“I’m clearly not your fucking baby if you regret what happened last night or whatever.” Trixie crossed her arms in front of her chest, causing Katya to take her hands away, and huffed, stubbornly avoiding eye contact. Katya didn’t know what part of what she’d said had given Trixie such an incorrect impression but she needed to rectify it as soon as possible. “I don’t plan on going out tonight, I don’t feel up to it. Just so you know, if you decide to talk to me…”

Trixie was being a pissy little bitch and giving her such mixed messages that she felt like she was in even more of a muddle than before she spoke with her. Nevertheless, Katya willingly accepted the blame lay upon her and her alone. Trixie had every right to act up. It was hard for Katya not to put Trixie on a pedestal sometimes, to feel like she would forever owe her for her sticking by her through her problems, and it was something she was always working on, not letting her guilt diminish her self perception and self worth when it came to personal relationships. 

But with this - she had instigated it, she had ramped things up. She had kissed her. She had told Trixie to eat her out. The onus was on her. 

“Almost time to start.” Fena’s voice boomed across the room and dragged Katya’s focus to the present, to what was expected of her in the next hour. She never got bored of performing and playing acoustically was fresh territory to explore, so it should have thrilled her, got her fidgeting with excitement. Instead, she wished away the time until they could go back to the flat, until she could open her heart to Trixie once and for all and determine their future. For now, she was in limbo.

Trixie made a move to leave but Katya blocked her path and got as close to Trixie as she would allow her. She was so often useless at exerting herself but, in that moment, she couldn’t risk not seizing any chance she could to try and convince Trixie of her truth. “You have to know,” She pleaded, eyes boring into Trixie’s severely, “I do not regret what we did, in and of itself. I only regret that I’ve hurt you and I would get down on my fucking knees in front of all these people and beg for your forgiveness if that’s what it would take, ok?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” Trixie replied, her fiery nature coming back to her. Katya didn’t want to get her hopes up at how Trixie tried to hide the small smirk on her face, how her shoulders seemed to relax slightly and the cross of her arms appeared less austere. For now, it was enough to settle her panic, smooth it out so she wasn’t totally incapable of turning her attention towards their show. There was hope.

Before Trixie walked away, the glint of jewellery at Katya’s neckline evidently caught her eye. Katya watched her hitch a breath, stare at her own necklace resting against Katya’s florid skin and clench her hand into a fist as if preventing herself from reaching out and _touching_. Katya fiddled with it instead, brought the charm (a diamante encrusted silhouette of Barbie’s head and ponytail) at the end of the thin chain to her lips and kissed it, softly. Trixie closed her eyes, shook her head like she was pulling herself out of a day dream and turned, leaving Katya behind, the pendant still cold against her mouth.

Katya shuffled over to Fena as the doors were opened. “I’m gonna put this right.” She said, trying to sound as determined as possible to convince Fena as well as herself.

“I know you will. Both of you.” Fena reassured, giving her a comforting smile before taking her seat, adjusting her sampling pad in front of her and picking up her sticks, ready to start.

Katya gingerly sat down next to Trixie, shrugged her shawl off and lifted her bass up from its stand to fix it in the optimal place. She shifted in her chair then decided to cross her legs and rest her bass in the gap between her thighs, being as careful as possible not to flash the crowd piling in. She didn’t look anywhere else apart from her pedal board and her tuner, didn’t want to think about the added pressure of pretending everything was great for a packed room of adoring fans, at least some of whom would be waiting to see _something_ between her and Trixie during the gig.

When the place was full and the event organisers gave Fena the thumbs up, Amy greeted everyone with an enthusiastic, “Hello!”. The crowd, with typical British politeness, responded, eager smiles plastered on their faces. 

“We’re Contact.” Fena added. “And we’d like to thank Doc Martens for having us here today. We’re all feeling a bit worse for wear after our party last night but we’re really grateful to have the chance to play some of our songs a little differently to how you might have heard them before.”

Jesus, Katya thought, she had never heard Fena talk so much to an audience before. She really was stepping up for her.

“So usually we start with an intro when we play live but we’re gonna get straight into it with our brand new single, Yellow Cloud, which is out now. Enjoy!” Amy exclaimed, fixing her mic in the right place for when she supplied backing vocals.

Fena counted them in with a chirpy, “One, two, here we go, now.” And Trixie and Katya simultaneously started strumming.

Trixie’s voice wasn’t as powerful as usual. It wasn’t massively noticeable to the untrained ear but Katya was glad Fena had presented an excuse for why they might not have been on their absolute best form, and she kept her eyes on her strings and her finger placement for fear of giving everything away if people properly saw her face. She wasn’t comfortable enough yet to interact with the crowd, be it verbally or just via eye contact. As Trixie sang the chorus, her vocals became clearer and louder and, by the end of the song, she had built back up her enough of her strength to sound much more like how she did normally. It wasn’t perfect but Katya reasoned she was faring a lot better than she herself was. She was surprised she could even get her fingers to move.

The room erupted in cheers and applause. Fena and Amy thanked everyone and introduced their next track. “This was our very first single that we recorded in Trixie’s bedroom, ages ago. For me, personally, it always holds a special place in my heart ‘cause making it was the first time I felt like ‘oh my god, I’ve met my people’, y’know?” Katya smiled at how fucking wonderfully sweet Amy could be.

“Aww.” Trixie leant into her mic to say, eyes downcast as she removed her capo, but the genuineness was there nonetheless. 

The track was anthemic and loud and busy, so it was interesting to play it so stripped back and toned down. Katya had decided to turn off her distortion for this rendition and make her bass lines chorus filled, gentler, to reflect how the meaning of the lyrics was a lot more obviously melancholy when there was much less upbeat musicality to disguise it. 

The rest of their set passed in a similar manner, Fena and Amy doing most of the talking with Trixie adding little responses here and there. Katya could only manage to focus on playing and not freaking out. If she were to look on the positive side of things, she could have appreciated that she had achieved actually getting through it. She might well not have done in the past. But she wasn’t that way inclined and she mentally kicked herself for being so down and lacklustre. She knew all her fans would be able to tell something was wrong. 

Their final two songs were Rockstar and the infamous track they otherwise played fifth. They’d slotted that one at the end because it was such a fan favourite but now Katya was coming to dread it, as much as she wanted their performance to be over. With that song, she truly could not escape the audience’s expectations of her and she felt trapped as she played the final bars of Rockstar absentmindedly. She wanted to run, get out of there and be alone to wallow. But she had also steeled herself to make the whole situation with Trixie right again. She couldn’t do that if she fled. She told herself not to be cowardly.

Once she adjusted her pedals, for the first time that afternoon she looked out into the crowd. Their elation and whistling and neverending clapping did little to bolster her mood but she couldn’t let herself not smile back, thought it too unkind not to show some sort of feeling to the people who had travelled far and wide to watch her and her friends. “Thank you all so much.” She mumbled into her mic. She sensed the other three staring at her in unrestrained disbelief. She only hoped they schooled their features fast enough not to be detected. 

“This is our final song.” She said, trying her hardest not to sound so low and lifeless. “I love it and...I always will.”

Katya wondered if Trixie would be able to tell she wasn’t talking about the fucking song.

It was then that she had to make a decision. If she didn’t go to Trixie, she would be showing both the audience and Trixie herself that there was something missing. If she did go to Trixie and Trixie pulled away or was visibly uncomfortable with Katya’s proximity after what had happened between them then Katya truly didn’t know whether she could survive the rejection - she could easily picture herself collapsing right there in a useless pile of human garbage, never to be loved or seen ever again. It was dramatic of her but she couldn’t feel things the way other people did. It was all or nothing.

As Amy played the opening bars of the song, Katya unfolded her legs so her feet touched the floor. She turned the volume knob of her bass right down so if she did move she wouldn’t accidentally hit her strings and make a noise. Trixie began to sing and Katya steeled herself, dared to look across at her. Trixie stared right back.

Katya’s breath caught in her throat. She took Trixie in, noting how the flyaways near her temples began to curl now she was warmer from performing, how her thick 301 lashes disguised most of her eyes so anyone in front of her could barely see her sclera; how she tried to sit tall but her natural posture betrayed her when she wasn’t concentrating; how fucking gorgeous she was. 

When the first chorus approached, Katya threw caution to the wind and hopped off her chair, trying not to give attention to the shake in her legs or the uncertainty of her nervous heartbeat, and came to stand behind Trixie instead, ignoring how her whole body seemed to scream at her to stop, to sit back down and shy away. Inhaling skittishly, she bent forward at her hips, letting her bass hang in the tight space between her front and Trixie’s back. She leant her forehead against the crown of Trixie’s head and closed her eyes, smelling the sweet coconut scent of Trixie’s hair, letting it tickle her nose. 

Like this, she could imagine it was just the two of them as it had been the night before. She could pretend they were in their bed with no prying eyes waiting on their every move and that she was holding Trixie in the way she was only really beginning to realise she was destined to. 

She brought her hand to Trixie’s long, thick plait and stroked down it once, slowly, before gently holding her shoulder, afraid that she would break her if she gripped too hard, that she would be too much or too insufficient, or both. She barely heard the words pouring from Trixie’s mouth but she felt the rumbling vibrations from where she touched Trixie as if she was creating them herself. 

Before the second verse came in and Katya had to start playing, she dipped her head lower so her lips grazed Trixie’s earlobe. It would have been sensual at any other time before then. When Amy sang her backing vocals and Trixie had room to take a deep breath, Katya seized her moment and whispered, “Come back to me.” As the chorus lines repeated, so did Katya, pressing her nose into the side of Trixie’s head. “Please come back to me.” 

She finished the rest of the song back on her own chair, back looking at no one else, back in despair. 

\- 

The crowd had been herded out but she hadn’t noticed. She had put her bass back on its stand and immediately crouched down to sort out her own pedal board, not waiting for Shea or Naomi to do it for her. She was in her head, keeping her hands busy so they didn’t reach out for Trixie or do something silly (whatever that could be, she wasn’t sure). The band were given half an hour to get a late lunch before their ride would take them to The Guardian offices in Kings Cross. She vaguely heard Fena inviting her to a pizza stall but she waved her off. She didn’t think she could stomach food.

Soon, she was left relatively alone and she sat on the floor with her legs splayed apart and her bags threatening to overspill next to her. She thought about texting her mom, opening iMessage but closing it just as fast because she didn’t want to worry her. Then, she remembered Amy’s message, the video link she hadn’t clicked. She got out her earphones, popped them in and tapped on her screen, which took her to YouTube and the fan made five minute compilation of recent ‘Trixya Moments’. She knew it was going to hurt to look at it but she had to see it, to perhaps figure out what Amy intended. 

She watched the mashed together footage of herself, running her hands over Trixie’s body, pressing her face as close to hers as she possibly could, kissing her leg, caressing her knees and thighs and so obviously wanting to go further. She watched herself stare at Trixie in interviews, sometimes for over ten seconds straight, mouth open and head tilted back as if whatever was coming from Trixie’s lips was gospel, the truth to life. She watched how she favoured holding and being held by Trixie both when she was comfortable and when she was in situations that were staggering or highly emotional. She watched how they gravitated towards one another like they were the centre of each other’s universe. 

She watched the video again just to make sure she wasn’t imagining it all.

Something bubbled inside her. She couldn’t name it, couldn’t pin it down, but it was there and it inexplicably softened her and somehow helped her to see that everything wasn’t all doomed beyond repair. Trixie might not have wanted to be around her right then. A bond like theirs, however, couldn’t break over uncertainty and confusion, surely. How they behaved with each other - that kind of light couldn’t diminish forever in a matter of mere hours. There was always a chance to reignite. 

Katya pressed the play again button one last time, focussing solely on Trixie, tracking her every movement or reaction. Her heart swelled as, on screen, Trixie spun on the spot to seek out Katya’s attention when her dress lifted up, as Trixie laughed harder than she ever did at anyone else when Katya was playing the fool, as Trixie held her hand to guide her through crowds or onto the stage, as she pulled Katya into her protectively, as she made sure Katya had enough water in easy reach near her pedal board or signalled to Naomi and Shea to turn Katya’s mic up when she was speaking to the crowd. Katya had never been cared for as much as when she was with Trixie. She knew that already, of course she did, but seeing all the many discreet ways Trixie showed off that consideration spread an indescribable warmth throughout her. 

Whatever Amy’s ideas were in sending the clip, it helped Katya to see all the undeniable evidence that Trixie respected and adored her. It was easy for her to fixate on the problem in the moment instead of remembering the bigger picture. She favourited the video and replied to Amy, telling her thank you. 

Forever glued to her phone, it didn’t take long for Amy to respond. “How are you doing? Where are you even?”

“Still at the venue.” Katya replied. “Just having some alone time. Thinking. You alright?”

“Ok! Yeah, good, just with Trixie. She says she knows you’ll talk to her tonight but she’s worried about The Guardian interview. She doesn’t want to be a bitch and she doesn’t want you to be a downer.”

“Charming! Easier said than done...The vid you sent helped a lot though.” Katya stood as she texted, shouldering her bags and making her way out the door towards the market itself, thanking the remaining staff and trying not to grimace as her boots started to rub. 

“I’m sending her your way inconspicuously with the excuse that I think I left my charger behind (I’m still eating!). Stay put. You’ve got ten mins - make every second count!”

Katya couldn’t help but smile. Amy was the light of her life. 

Katya lit a cigarette and crouched near the entrance, repeatedly clicking her red lighter. Soon enough, she spotted Trixie coming towards her but not yet noticing she was there. Katya pretended not to have seen her, to be off in one of her dazes, looking to the side where vendors were carrying boxes of supplies and tourists were huddling together with their churros and bubble waffles dripped with nutella and covered in sprinkles. She inhaled deeply, felt the smoke heat her lungs and spread out. She exhaled and watched the twirls of it manifest before her, dissipate as Trixie stepped into her line of vision. 

“Did you see Amy’s charger when you were in there?” Trixie asked, feigning indifference and nonchalance. 

“No, sorry.” Katya responded, not facing her just yet, flicking the ash off her cigarette and watching it burn down little by little. 

Trixie sighed, folded her arms then came to sit next to Katya, leaving more space between them than she usually would but not enough that meant Katya would feel bereft. They perched against the dusty wall silently. Katya couldn’t quite bear it. It wasn’t the kind of silence they shared when they cuddled up together in bed or when they sat with their legs all tangled on the bus, scrolling through social media. It wasn’t the silence that contained their desires. It was the kind of silence that smothered them. 

“Ready for our interview?” Katya asked lamely. A sudden paranoia swept over her (and left her just as quick) that Trixie would figure out she’d spoken to Amy about her. She swallowed, took another long drag.

“No. I keep thinking how sad it is that I was so looking forward to freaking out over my picture being on one of the biggest websites in the western world and now I don’t think I’ll be able to even look at our article.” 

Katya snapped her head round at that. “Oh come off it, Trix.” She rolled her eyes incredulously. “Don’t you dare let whatever’s going on between us ruin this for you.” Trixie looked forlorn. Katya decided to study the rainbow stitching of her Docs like they’d give her a sufficient distraction. 

Trixie laughed humorlessly. “Guess that’s fine for you to say, hmm? It’s not like you fucked me senseless and knew I wouldn’t be able to hide the effects of it and knew it’d be as plain to see on me as, I don’t know, fucking Big Ben or whatever.”

Katya fought every instinct to cave in on herself. “I understand you’re angry or upset or _something_ but I’m not some evil villain out to humiliate you. I’m me,” Katya stubbed out her cigarette, turned on her toes so she sprang off the wall and came to kneel in front of Trixie, taking her face in her hands, “I’m still me. Spinning what I said to fit your agenda right now isn’t helping either of us and you know it. You know I said what I said last night because…” She took a deep breath, tracking the enlargement of Trixie’s pupils as she tilted her face nearer to her. “Because I thought it was hot, because I wanted to share that kind of not-so-secret secret with you and see you thinking of me _like that_.”

Trixie’s expression was blank. Katya was desperate to get some sort of reaction out of her that wasn’t all negative. She was kind of impressed with herself not to have fallen at Trixie’s feet and not to have pleaded with her to absolve her like she might have done when she thought much less of herself. 

“I’m being a complete bitch aren’t I?” Trixie stated more than she asked. Katya nodded anyway. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.” Trixie reached up to hold Katya’s wrists and keep her hands in place, whereas Katya might have thought she would still have wanted to maintain some semblance of distance. Trixie closed her eyes, grimacing, and rested her forehead against Katya’s. “I’m all over the place and...I want you to make me feel better.” 

Then, Trixie's eyebrows curved upwards and she gave Katya her puppy dog eyes, the expression reserved only for Katya and sometimes, if things were truly (over dramatically) dire, Amy and Fena. Katya saw _her_ Trixie, held her familiar face and smoothed her thumbs across the bags under Trixie’s heavily shielded eyes. Katya had never thought about it before, but in that moment she wondered if Trixie applied so many lashes to be able to hide behind them. Katya knew her better than anyone else but for a stranger or a mere acquaintance, Trixie’s lashes had the ability to disguise a very telling part of her, to uphold an undetectable barrier. 

Katya brushed her nose against Trixie’s, so gently and slowly as if to savour the act. She didn’t feel like she was losing her best friend any longer but she was loathe to jinx anything, to underappreciate the privilege of being the person allowed to touch Trixie in such a tender way. She tilted her head to the side so she could reach the spot where Trixie’s jaw met the bottom of her earlobe. There, she parted her lips so they brushed against Trixie’s soft skin. She felt Trixie’s stunted breath against her own neck, heard how she stifled a gasp. Katya kissed her.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Katya spoke, low and deep, into her ear. “You’re going to charm the pants off our interviewer, whoever that’ll be. You’re going to strike your campy, country poses and smile like you’re a fucking beauty queen and you’re going to let me put my hands all over you for the photos. You’re going to think about how all our lesbian fans are gonna jerk off to us. You’re going to look fucking hot like you always do and you’re going to be the poster girl for the modern high femme dykes. How’s about that?” 

Trixie huffed a laugh and pulled back so she could show Katya her smile, give her a glimpse of her watery eyes. Her tears didn’t brim over her waterline but it was evident that Katya’s words had had an effect on her.

“Sounds like a solid plan.” 

Katya leaned in and gave Trixie a peck on the lips, enough to reinforce that she was with her through whatever she was feeling but not so insistent that their lipstick would smudge or blend, that there would be any evidence of what she had done. 

The Guardian offices were a lot larger than Katya had expected and a lot emptier. Fena reminded her it was a Saturday, dummy, and that they were lucky to have been scheduled at this time at all. Katya lugged her bags with a bit more willful energy in her step. She still felt heavy, the weight of everything Trixie had said and how she had acted up not easy to shrug off, but she was functional, she could carry a conversation and, she hoped, could conduct an entertaining interview. The change in her demeanour wasn’t unnoticed by Amy, who gave her a sneaky wink and cheeky giggle when they were being led down a corridor by a woman Katya had instantly forgotten the name of.

Their photo shoot was first as the photographer had to dash to a party that night. Katya was relieved, unable to imagine looking her best after talking about herself and the band for an undetermined amount of time. They were ushered into a simple room, set up for their shoot with a plain white background and a range of ring lights and softboxes. There were chairs and mirrors to one side, a rack of clothes next to them and a few stylists and assistants milling about. They were introduced to a few people but Katya couldn’t quite concentrate, Amy and Trixie doing most of the talking as she leant into Fena’s side with a surely manic smile plastered on her face in an attempt to seem warm and friendly. Fena nudged her and told her to dial it down.

One of the assistants introduced the makeup artist, a beautiful woman with glossy, flawless skin and a sparkly clip placed perfectly in her afro. “Oh.” Trixie glanced at her. “Er...Please don’t be offended but we weren’t expecting, um, help. We don’t usually have other people do our faces and this is going to sound so ungrateful and wanky but we’d prefer it if we could do our own looks. Well, Fena doesn’t wear makeup but the rest of us…” She trailed off, nervous to potentially make things a bit difficult when that’s what her reputation was known for.

“We appreciate that but it’s alright, it’s all been paid for.” The assistant tried to reason but Trixie, wonderfully stubborn at the best of times, was having none of it. 

“We should have had Michelle tell you guys beforehand, we didn’t think.” Amy supplied.

The assistant, knowing she was fighting a losing battle, conceded eventually and Trixie and Amy got to work on their faces as Katya and Fena talked through their outfits with the stylist. Katya, stupidly, thought they’d just be wearing their own clothes. She didn’t quite know if the stuff that would be picked out for her would be suitable but she vowed to give the woman a chance before creating more chaos. Luckily, the stylist had done enough of her research and knew that Fena didn’t touch a dress or skirt with a barge pole. Fena nodded approvingly at the selection of baggy tartan trousers, black jeans and loose and boxy t-shirts.

Fena went off to get changed and have her hair done. Katya was amazed at the star treatment and turned her attention to the petite woman hired to try and make her look fit for publication. 

“Hiya, Katya.” She said and extended her hand which Katya dutifully shook. She wasn’t certain but she thought she saw a blush creep up on the woman’s face as she introduced herself. Jo. “Right, feel free to veto any of my choices.” Jo then proceeded to show her a few options including some Topshop faux leather dungarees that Katya most definitely was into and a Maje leopard print dress that she was most definitely _not_ into. It didn’t take them long to sift through the good and the bad and put together outfits using some of the things Katya had brought with her. Jo laughed at Katya’s critiques, smiled from ear to ear when she was happy with an item and brushed her fingers against Katya’s when she passed her a t-shirt. 

“Ready for me to do your makeup?” Trixie’s voice cut through the air as she sidled up against Katya and gave Jo her most dazzling smile in the way she did when she wanted to intimidate. She cocked her head, put her hand on her hip and slung her other arm around Katya’s waist. 

Jo seemed to deflate. “We were just finishing up, yeah. I’ll meet with you, Trixie, once you’re done.” 

“Great, thank you.” Trixie’s overly friendly grin made Katya want to snicker like a naughty girl at school.

At the mirror, Trixie got to work, bouncing her beauty blender on the expanse of Katya’s forehead, her fringe held back by a few kirby grips. They were both quiet and Katya couldn’t help but sense that Trixie’s mood was back. It didn’t feel like before, however, so Katya steeled herself and tried a different approach now she wasn’t crippled by her anxiousness.

“Jo picked out some really cool dungarees for me. We decided on me wearing them just with my sports bra underneath.”

“Yeah I’m sure she’d like that.” Trixie muttered and Katya discreetly smirked to herself. Bullseye. She’d got her where she wanted.

“What about you? Wouldn’t you like that?” Katya kept her eyes closed as Trixie applied a full coverage concealer to lighten the high points of her face and dabbed some primer on her lids. She didn’t know what look Trixie would do on her but she knew she’d be happy with whatever it was. 

“Shut up, you know I would.” 

Katya openly smirked, then, felt Trixie playfully slap her shoulder. 

“Did you come get me to stop Jo from helping me change?” 

Katya cracked an eye open to see Trixie shake her head and let out an embarrassed laugh. If she wasn’t wearing such heavy makeup, Katya would have been able to see a blush bloom on her cheeks. 

“I saved her from realising you have the body of a fifty year old Irish rock climber. Now stay still, I need to do my magic.” 

Trixie’s order was futile and Katya’s wheeze-laugh overtook her whole body. She slapped her knees and pitter-pattered her feet on the floor and shook her arms beside her. Trixie pretended to be fed up but she couldn’t contain her smile, her crooked teeth bared. Katya felt like a ray of sunshine permeated her chest, spread pleasingly throughout her. This was more like normality. She calmed herself and eased back into her chair, relaxing.

An hour later, the band were shuffling about on the white background paper, the poor photographer trying to contain them. Amy kept picking Katya up and when the guy tried to ask them to strike a pose, Trixie immediately dabbed, eliciting a raucous laugh from the others so they all fell about the place in disarray. 

They changed outfits for their individual shots, Katya putting on a calf length, diaphanous black dress that she’d made with hand stitched on tiny pearlescent beads dotted all over it and a big slit up the side almost to her hip. She and Jo had agreed that she would keep her sports bra on underneath and would pair the ensemble with some ripped J Brand jeans. At the last minute, she ditched the jeans, protesting that she was too sweaty. Nobody could argue with that. By herself, she managed to stay still long enough for their photographer, Chris, to be satisfied. She was photogenic so she didn’t think it a hard task for him to get a good picture. 

Before they all changed one last time, Chris asked to take some shots of Trixie and Katya together. He dragged a metal stool to the centre of the space and adjusted the lights so he could get some portraits. Trixie was wearing a short baby blue dress with chiffon sleeves and a peter pan collar. It cinched in at her waist and fell exactly halfway on her chunky thighs. Her bare legs were smooth and she had her gifted Docs on her feet, an unusual sight as, Katya figured, she would have paired the dress with her patent boots. The choice must have been Jo’s and Katya didn’t one bit disapprove. The tiny detail made for an edgier twist.

Chris instructed Trixie to sit on the stool and for Katya to stand behind her but Katya thought that was too boring and gave off a familial vibe, too stiff and formal, rather than a documentation of two band members with infamous chemistry. Instead, she grabbed Trixie’s knees to swivel her to the side. She gave Katya a quirk of an eyebrow in questioning but clearly trusted her silent direction more than she ever would of Chris’s. Katya waved a hand dismissively in Chris’s general vicinity when he tried to assert his control. She widened her legs and shuffled so she straddled each side of Trixie’s thighs. Then, she lowered herself gently down, sitting on Trixie’s lap, placing her arms softly around Trixie’s shoulders and straightening her legs, her muscles flexing and toes pointing gracefully. 

“This is better.” Trixie said more to Katya than their photographer. Katya smiled in response and brought her face closer to Trixie’s, glancing down at her inviting, overdrawn lips. She barely registered the flash of Chris taking the first photo. Trixie’s hands came to grip her hips, keeping her in place, and they stared into each other’s eyes, the features of both their faces smoothing out from the comfort of such intimacy. 

“That’s great, ladies, just a few more and then we’ll do some final group photos.” 

Katya tuned him out, running a hand down Trixie’s neck, down the centre of her chest to rest over the swell of her breast. Her dress might have been covering her up but Katya felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through her when she thought about knowing exactly how Trixie looked under all her clothes. Trixie parted her lips, let out a long, harsh exhale like she was sharing the same thought as Katya. 

Katya’s last outfit consisted of a multicoloured Vivienne Westwood t-shirt with a printed, scribbled skull on the front and ‘terror’ written across her chest, tucked into a black Maje kilt-style skirt. She wore her Docs with some thick socks and several plasters. She pressed more Dermablend to her face as she tried not to think too much about Trixie’s naked body and tried not to obviously squeeze her thighs together. 

Chris thanked them for being more agreeable during their last group set and Katya rolled her eyes before speeding away to change back into her own clothes, spraying on a good deal of deodorant and refreshing her perfume before swaddling herself in her shawl. 

For their interview, they were taken to another room. They left their bags on the floor and crowded onto a sofa. Fena sat closest to the journalist, Leonie, who had pulled up her recording app on her iPhone and was chatting amicably with her. Amy sat in the middle, Trixie’s arm behind her on the back of the couch, and Katya awkwardly squashed herself half on Trixie’s lap, half against a patterned cushion. 

“Hi guys, great to have you here. I’m gonna get straight into the questions ‘cause I know we’ve all got Saturday night plans. I personally have a hot date with a bottle of red and Love Island.” Katya didn’t know what Love Island was but it sounded terrible and she tried not to judge Leonie too harshly on that alone. Katya bounced her leg up and down and tapped her knee with each finger and twice with her thumb before starting all over again. Trixie deftly pulled Katya’s hand into her lap and held it tightly.

Katya expected to be asked about the band’s formation, the usual questions presented to them at the beginning of interviews where they would compliantly go through their shared chronology and try to make it as interesting as the first time they relayed it to someone outside of their friend group or family. Instead, Leonie enquired what their favourite characteristic about each other was. They all seemed pleasantly surprised to veer from the predictable script, Katya especially. 

Fena stated how she appreciated Amy’s ability to find joy in the everyday and transfer that joy to someone else if they were feeling bland or down; how Trixie’s determination steered them; how Katya’s mind worked like no one else she had ever or would ever meet and how her heart was full of love. Amy explained how Fena’s reliability and loyalty made her feel safe and appreciated no matter what; how Trixie’s cutting remarks made her laugh more than she ever had before but her caring nature was what really made her so admirable; how Katya was honest, optimistic, spontaneous and a testament to how she was raised.

“Oh god, I feel like I’m reading everyone’s eulogies, or something, doing this.” Trixie quipped, the seriousness of the conversation a little too much for her. Katya rubbed her thumb along the bumps of Trixie’s knuckles. “Fena is the most sensible and diligent person I know. Amy’s creativity and depth of knowledge about the things she’s interested in inspires us all. They both generally just make me want to be a better person ‘cause newsflash, Brenda, I’m garbage.” Katya’s heartbeat sped up in anticipation of what Trixie would say about her. “And Katya...is just..._it_, y’know?” Leonie merely raised her eyebrows to try and get Trixie to elaborate. “I can’t explain it. Katya’s indescribable.” 

Katya nudged her so she would face her and not their interviewer, gave her a reassuring smile so she knew that Katya understood what she meant, even if no one else did. 

“For me, I see each of them as parts of my personality.” Katya said, squeezing Trixie’s hand every second and a half. “Of course I know they’re actual people and I guess it goes to show how narcissistic I am to think of the most important friends I have in such an entwined relation to myself, but that’s how I can effectively formulate it. Because these three shaped me and have built me up when I was barely human and continue to do so even when they themselves are tired out or feeling low. So I conceptualise Fena as my internal monologue when things aren’t going my way or when I feel lost - her voice is what I hear to pull myself together and see everything more rationally, to, to get my shit together because _there is a point_. Amy is the part of me who taps into her inner child, who sees wonder in the smallest of things and can share it so openly. I’m programmed to believe that whatever I think up has no value and that can be a hard behaviour to overturn. Amy is my enthusiasm and artistic vision.”

“Oh my god, that’s so lovely, what the fuck!” Amy exclaimed, reaching across Trixie to hold onto Katya’s arm. Katya laughed at her reaction and blew her a kiss. 

“What about Trixie, then?” Prompted Leonie. “You two are infamous amongst your fans for having such a close relationship. Do you mind commenting on that a little bit?”

“Trixie’s, like, my entire will to live. She’s who I think of when I wake up in the morning and she’s the one I do all this for. She’s my heart and soul ‘cause without my heart I literally wouldn’t be alive and without my soul there’d be no deeper reason to exist beyond existing itself. I wouldn’t be here without her which, which sounds so morbid! But it’s...nice - no, not nice, er?” She flailed her hand about. “Well, whatever.”

“Jesus, Kat.” Trixie let out under her breath like what Katya had just said was the most profound thing she’d ever heard. 

Leonie looked like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. (Katya would have worried but for the firm, unshakable knowledge that she had spoken her truth and nothing could make her feel unworthy or foolish for that.)

“You’re clearly all such good friends. How does that translate in the creative process?” Their interviewer managed.

“There are positives and negatives.” Amy replied. “Like, we get each other and we respect each other so, so much. Working with them doesn’t feel like work but then that sometimes leads us to be unfocused or silly and a bit hard to pin down, I guess.” Fena nodded to show her agreement.

“I couldn’t imagine working with anyone else. We all have such different influences and styles and when we bring all that together and hash it out, it sometimes takes a really long time, but it also makes for what I think is a unique sound and aesthetic.” Trixie added and Katya hummed, nodding repeatedly. 

The interview took just over an hour overall. It was their longest one to date and Katya appreciated how thorough Leonie was, how she had researched them well and asked detailed questions but left enough room for them to expand on their answers without her involvement. 

Trixie did most of the talking when the discussion came around to the making of their album, with Amy and Katya chipping in every so often to add their perspective. Fena was mostly quiet but paid attention to what was being said, giving a few comments here and there if she thought it was necessary. It was tiring, Katya thought, but it felt rewarding to have the opportunity to be open and say what they wanted to say to such a massive publication. Leonie might not have given two shits, for all Katya knew, but she did make sure she had plenty of material to use in her article and Katya fathomed that was only a good thing.

“You guys put on an incredible show at the Electric Ballroom. Are there plans to come back and tour here again once the album’s out?” Leonie’s final question was much less emotionally driven and taxing than the rest, so Katya felt it was a good way for the interview to wind down.

“We’d absolutely love to come back. It all just depends on whether we can get the bookings and how much demand there is. Michelle, our manager, is working away on that as we speak. Keep your fingers crossed for us, we’ve had such a good time here.” Amy gushed and then it was all over. Katya equally wanted to sleep for a week and sprint all the way back to Camden.

When they finally got to their AirBnB, Fena ditched her stuff and dashed off to meet her mates. Amy also planned to go out and get a taste of the London drag scene, mourning the closure of The Black Cap since the last time she’d visited but excited to see what else was prevailing despite the difficulty LGBT venues experienced. She got changed and followed Fena out. Katya was relieved to be left alone with Trixie. Although she knew the others wouldn’t have minded them secluding themselves away to have The Chat, would have encouraged it even, Katya felt more at ease at the thought of an empty house with no one around to hear her but Trixie.

They took their makeup off together like they had the night previously. This time, Trixie’s tub of Albolene was covered in goopy foundation and Katya huffed a laugh at how Trixie was so meticulous with her skincare routine yet so gross and careless in this case. Katya trained her attention on getting all her smokey eyeshadow off, on ensuring her lips weren’t stained and her drying skin received a bit of reprieve from the heavy duty concealer that Trixie had applied. She massaged Trixie’s moisturiser into her face and silently left Trixie to complete her rituals, returning to their bedroom to put on some leggings and a t-shirt. She needed to be as physically comfortable as possible. She tried not to pace as she waited. She ran through the Russian system of declension in her head to keep herself suitably occupied.

Trixie came to stand at the foot of their bed, watching Katya as she did what she could to remain calm. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve been tormenting me for much longer than I have you.”

Katya flung her whole body around to gawp confusedly at Trixie. “How would that make me feel better and not worse?”

Trixie looked at her feet, shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Katya perched on the edge of the mattress, giving Trixie enough space if she wanted it. “What’s going on, Trix? Can you tell me? Properly?”

Trixie climbed onto the bed, hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. “I want you to talk first. I know you wouldn’t have lied but...what you said today, during the interview…” She trailed off and Katya would have been offended at the implication that she didn’t one hundred percent mean her declarations if she wasn’t so occupied, desperate to properly reconcile with Trixie. 

“It was the truth. What, did you think I was just spewing what the fans would love to hear? That I was embellishing how I feel to make it appealing to a potential reader or —”

“No, of course not.” Trixie interrupted, brows furrowing. “It was so beautiful and moving and I didn’t quite believe you were revealing all of that like it wasn’t too precious to keep to yourself.”

“Are you mad? I don’t understand.”

Trixie closed her eyes and sighed. “I know. I think my whole problem is that I’ve been wanting you to get it, waiting for you to get it, and then when my expectations weren’t fulfilled it got too disheartening and I...blamed you for your own obliviousness.”

“Get _what_? Why won’t anyone —”

“I’m in love with you, Katya, head over fucking heels in love with you. And I have been for a long, long time and you just don’t get it, you never, never get it.” Tears finally spilled over. They trailed down Trixie's cheeks, aflame from her admission. Katya couldn’t believe her own ears. It was as if reality was playing a trick on her because there was no fucking way Trixie, perhaps the most incredible, patient, supportive and sickening person on the entire planet, could have harboured those kinds of emotions for Katya. She wasn’t at all worthy of it and, as Trixie looked up and away from her and began to sob, Katya couldn’t register that she wasn’t joking, even when all evidence pointed to the contrary. 

Though she was totally incapable of providing a verbal response, she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around Trixie and pull her into her thumping chest. It tore at her, seeing and feeling Trixie cry, to know that she was the cause of it without ever realising until now. She squeezed her as tight as she could and pressed her face to the side of Trixie’s head as if to meld their minds together, to somehow have Trixie understand the disbelief and awe befuddling her so completely. 

“I can’t keep it inside any more. I couldn’t bear it and then when we...” Trixie’s voice, usually loud and uncensored and distinct against every backdrop, came out quiet and hoarse and Katya wanted to breathe the air back into her lungs, sacrifice everything she had if it meant Trixie had vibrancy and unbridled confidence in her once more, that strength which Katya always envied and idolised. 

That day, Katya had overcome her nerves and the panic which could have ruined her had she not pulled herself together for the sake of the fans, the band and her own dignity. Now, she had to gather herself and be the strong one for Trixie. Trixie had spent so much time and energy and _love_ tending to Katya in the past when she was at her lowest. The least Katya could do, in that moment, was give even just a fraction of the same back. 

Katya pressed a trail of kisses from the crown of Trixie’s head to her hairline, her forehead, the bridge of her nose. Katya kissed over both her closed eyes as her tears kept falling down her face, as she tried not to lean into Katya’s touches. 

“How long have you felt this way?” Katya asked, gently so Trixie would know she wasn’t accusing her or angry or offended. 

Trixie wiped her eyes, sat up straighter and eased out of Katya’s embrace so she could look at her properly. Katya wanted to hold her again, keep her close and safe and comforted but she also determined to achieve all that by telling her, by bucking the fuck up for once and giving Trixie what she needed, however scary or intimidating it might be for Katya. It wasn’t about her now. 

“Since being with Pearl.” Katya tried not to let the shock show on her face, eyes widening nonetheless. “She was so great and we should have worked but she wasn’t you. I realised I shouldn’t have been wanting to talk to you and be around you more than my girlfriend. I looked at you and I looked at her and it was you who made my heart race and my days a billion times more exciting and it was you who I thought about when something cool happened or when I needed cheering up. I never told her. I didn’t tell anyone, just wrote all those songs, hoping for you to pick the lyrics apart enough to get to the truth of them. You never did and for a while I was ok, I could manage. And then this tour and sharing the bunk with you and this whole Trixya thing...I couldn’t escape it. Part of me didn’t want to either. It finally got too much this morning when I woke up and I just...lost all the control I’d had before.” 

“I don’t know how you’ve kept sane.” Katya wondered aloud.

“Neither do I. But it’s like, I don’t know, I just figured that no matter what, nothing would ever ruin what we already had. I couldn’t imagine it, and not just because I was, like, fantasising about us being together.” 

Katya resisted yelling out, “Yes!” She didn’t think her enthusiastic agreement would have reassured Trixie as much as she might have hoped. It all resonated, regardless. Everything Trixie had said made so much sense to Katya that she felt like Trixie was narrating her undiscovered internal monologues. Katya couldn’t imagine turning to someone else when she needed to celebrate or grieve or even just to relax. She couldn’t picture a world in which Trixie wasn’t such an integral part of her life. 

Katya wasn’t big on dating and relationships. She mainly hooked up and maybe saw a woman a few times if she was a particularly good lay. It seemed insensitive now, and paled in comparison to how it was to sleep with Trixie. Slowly, as she fully processed all that Trixie had divulged, she understood why hearing it from Trixie was more of a surprise than identifying she had been experiencing the very same thing herself.

Thinking of being with someone else, of kissing and touching and fucking someone other than Trixie was incomprehensible. It was why Katya had no qualms about Trixie’s request that she didn’t sleep with anyone on tour and why, upon reflection, she hadn’t thought it odd for her to ask in the first place. Katya was an affectionate person by nature but how she acted around Trixie was different. She had known, of course, and it had been pointed out by friends and fans alike non-stop, yet it was so normal to her that she didn’t realise why they felt the need to remind her. Now, she assumed they had been trying to help her, like Amy and Fena. 

Katya laughed. She didn’t mean to and she felt terrible for the hurt that mauled Trixie’s face, made her look like she’d been slapped and kicked further down than she already thought she had been. But it was beyond fucking hilarious how stupid and ignorant Katya had been. Literally everyone had been waving the truth right before her very eyes and she had taken it all in as if it didn’t actually indicate a damn thing! 

“Oh my god, I’m such an idiot!” She exclaimed, bringing her hands to the top of her head and cackling like the insane person she was. “No, no, no, no!” She rushed to shout upon seeing Trixie retreat, slump into herself and quiver like she was bracing herself to have her heart ripped out of her chest. “This is good! This is so _good_! Let me explain, oh my god, please don’t look like that, don’t think the worst, let me, let me, uh, oh fuck, I’m - _wow_.” 

She got onto her knees and shuffled as close to Trixie as she physically could, wrapping her arms back around her middle and shoving her face right in front of Trixie’s. She probably appeared even more crazed than she had before but adrenaline was racing through her veins and incalculable revelations filled her brain to its brim and her whole body thrummed as if she was truly alive for the first time, seeing the world in a new light, her perspective of everything shifting for the better because of Trixie, because of the connection they shared finally being actualised in Katya’s consciousness as something above the ordinary. If she’d had more time to think beyond the necessities of the moment, she would have deplored how she had done Trixie such a disservice by not properly considering the extraordinary nature of their relationship before. 

But she didn’t have time. 

Trixie still didn’t let herself melt into Katya’s hold, leaning back on her hands and gazing down at where Katya was touching her, silently refusing to face her despite not being outright asked. Katya couldn’t ever demand anything of Trixie but, in that moment, she needed Trixie to _see her_.

“Trix, look at me, please.” Slowly, Trixie raised her head. “I’m terrible with words, you know me. I go off on tangents and it’s hard to keep myself on one subject and even if I do I can flit between sentences like, well, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters other than me getting the chance, finally getting the chance to tell you that _I understand_. It might have taken me longer than you’d hoped and I might have not even realised what the hell was going on until you spelled it out for me, but everything you just said...It’s the same for me. I meant what I said in our interview today and I’ve meant everything I’ve ever said to you because you are my reality, you are the truth of my life even when I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. I told you yesterday, I said ‘you’re everything’ and I didn’t even grasp how much I fucking meant it because it’s so normal to me! So that’s why I’m an idiot, not because I didn’t recognise how you felt (though there’s that too) but because I’ve loved you for fuck knows how long and I’ve made the mistake of ignoring the spectacularity of it. You deserve a billion times better than that and I want to try and give it to you.”

Katya didn’t realise she had been shaking but when Trixie burst into tears once more and pulled Katya to her, holding onto her for dear life around her shoulders and shoving her reddened, streaky face into Katya’s neck, she felt how her trembling body bumped against Trixie’s, saw how she moved her, the evidence of their intertwined existences bright and beautiful and as glaring as it should have been to her all these past months - _years_. 

“Are you sure? Definitely sure?” Trixie asked, voice husky against Katya’s skin. Katya could sense the whisper of Trixie’s lips as they moulded around her words and she smiled into Trixie’s hair.

“I’m sure. I promise. I love you. And I promise to love you as best as I can, just like you’ve been doing to me all this time without my dumb ass knowing.”

Katya inched away and took one last look at Trixie before kissing her with complete certainty, without any reservation. A day earlier, she thought she was the happiest she had ever been, performing in front of hundreds of people and playing her absolute best, having an eager crowd at her beck and call. It paled in comparison, however, to fully appreciating how exceptional it was to love Trixie in the way she did, to know Trixie loved her so individually, a one of a kind. Trixie was really hers. Katya was the luckiest woman in the whole fucking world.


	7. Oxford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fucking shit balls, these past few weeks have been BUSY. I am so so glad to finally present to you the last chapter of Making Contact and I'm even more pleased that I managed to get it done in time for Xmas. I can't thank y'all enough for reading and commenting and generally being so lovely about this story. Means a lot to me.
> 
> Please see the notes at the end of the chapter for the list of tracks that I imagine to sound like Contact's live setlist, which includes the *song that inspired a few fantasies and thus this story in the first place heh heh hehhh.
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone, and I'll be back in the New Year with something a bit more depressing, in time for the January blues😂

They had talked until the early hours of the morning, until they vaguely registered Fena, then Amy, stumbling in drunk and tired out, heading straight to bed. Katya sat, holding Trixie’s hands in her lap and staring so intently into her familiar face like she was seeing her properly, not for the first time, but in a new way, a way she had opened herself up to and was slowly but surely understanding that she was welcome to do, as well. Trixie told her all she had been feeling in the past year, about all the tiny instances Katya hadn’t thought of as monumental but which had actually inspired the lyrics to Trixie’s songs, the ones that Katya had always deemed her best because they led the listener to feel what Trixie was feeling. Big, unforgettable, heart wrenching emotions. Katya couldn’t forgive herself for her obliviousness but she tried, at every moment she got, to let Trixie know it was because she always thought of Trixie as above and beyond her, considering herself not good enough for anyone else, never mind the one person she regarded so highly.

“I kept thinking, like that night I got into bed with you and you had no top on and you were holding me like you would do anything to have me near, surely you knew what you were doing. I shouldn’t have given you that much credit.” Trixie joked and Katya playfully told her to shut up, all the while cackling like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. 

The pink early morning sky coloured their room an enchanting rose gold. Neither of them had bothered to get up to draw the curtains and they hadn’t left the comfort of their bed, their regained proximity, since Trixie had disclosed her true sentiments towards Katya. Katya watched as Trixie talked, adored how her hair managed to remain glossy despite both of them playing with it at every lull in the conversation, how her faint smile lines became a little more inset the more Katya reminded her of all the times any just-platonic friend would not have behaved in the way they had been doing, how she slotted her fingers in between Katya’s to keep them both physically connected. 

Katya had a lot to process and she was relieved she had Trixie right by her side as she worked through it all. How on earth had she gone so long without understanding the depth of her relationship with Trixie in a way that she could verbalise? 

“It’s as though I needed you to say it first, to put a name to what we were doing, because if I didn’t have that, that, _confirmation_ I wouldn’t have ever let myself properly consider the possibility of you and me having something beyond a friendship - an amazing, incredible, mind-blowing friendship but it was just a friendship nonetheless. And I don’t mean that to diminish what we had and you know I don’t think there’s a hierarchy between friendships and romantic relationships but, like, there’s literally no other way to say it, I don’t have the vocabulary and, if we’re going into it here, we as a society don’t either. Really, you’ve been my girlfriend for ages and I’m just so disappointed in myself for not actively treating you in the way you wanted and in the way I didn’t know I was allowed or _free_ to do.”

They had kissed, and kissed and kissed and kissed. First, their kisses were hungry and hard and bruising as they both tried to let out what had been building within them. Even when they had fucked before, there had still been an underlying limitation. As the moon gave way to the sun and the parakeets that had somehow spread across London a few summers before began their birdsong, flying from branch to branch towards Regents Park outside their window, Katya had sat atop of Trixie, cupped her face in her hands and taken her mouth, feeling wholly unfettered. She was full of love from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. 

Then, she had nudged Trixie to shuffle back and lean against the headboard. Katya had straddled her and taken her time to place her lips against every inch of her skin, starting from her forehead and ending when the neckline of Trixie’s t-shirt prevented her from going any further. 

“I hope you know now,” Katya had murmured against Trixie’s flushing skin, “That you are the most incredible person I have ever met and that you are so fucking hot that you managed to make me even stupider than I already was.” 

They laughed into each other’s necks, Trixie holding onto each of her own elbows as she wrapped her arms tighter around Katya’s shoulders, weighing her down just how Katya liked so she could feel the press of her body against Trixie’s, firm and sturdy and _there_. 

“I can’t believe you love me.” Trixie beamed, kissing Katya’s right eyebrow. “But the more we talk about it, the more I can, and the more I can see how you’ve shown me in the past without meaning to.”

“Amy sent me a video earlier that a fan had edited and it made me see it too, every little thing you do for me and I do for you, and how we are with each other. We’re fucking cute!” Katya exclaimed, leaning back so she wasn’t shouting in Trixie’s face, yet returning just as quick to squash their noses together affectionately. 

“I think you’re actually the cutest.” Trixie smirked, always knowing how to get a reaction out of Katya. God, Katya was enthralled, always and forever, by how well Trixie understood her, no matter the context or the time or place. It was why they played off each other so well, why they could finish each other’s sentences or expand on each other’s comedic punchlines when someone else, perhaps, could only watch on in awe. 

“Ugh, that’s it, this is all too mushy! Get your underwear off so I can fuck you fast and hard like the repressed dyke I am and tire you out so you don’t mouth off again, you fuckin’ bitch.”

Trixie brought their mouths together, sliding her tongue along Katya’s bottom lip and sucking on it, gently at first but then more urgently and Katya wondered if even just her jokey commands had spurred her on. Amongst the ups and downs of the day, Katya had felt that pull in her, that simmering arousal she seemed to have experienced every time she was in Trixie’s presence since they began to ham it up on stage. Katya, when she thought over how she had relished in touching and being touched by Trixie in such a purposeful, sexual manner, could feel a pulse between her legs, like an insistent bass line vibrating. There hadn’t been room to act upon the sensations and she would have felt dirty, as if she were taking advantage, if she had done more beyond tender caresses and desperate embraces before they had aired their grievances. 

Now, she could do as she pleased, encouraged by Trixie’s sighs and the quickening of her pulse which she could feel, as palpable as her own, when she grazed her fingers along Trixie’s neck. She placed her hand over Trixie’s heart, felt it jump under her touch, and she smiled into their next kiss knowing she was the one to cause such a reaction within her. What a phenomenal honour, Katya thought, to be trusted with Trixie’s heart so decidedly, so bravely.

The meagre space between them held their desires. Katya brought her body flush against Trixie’s once more, began to move her hips, rubbing herself absentmindedly in Trixie’s lap. “I want to fuck you so bad.” She moaned as Trixie pushed her hands into her hair and gripped her tightly each side of her head. 

“Fuck me, then.” Trixie replied simply, as if it was the most obvious course of action, as if she wasn’t completely breathless already. Katya grinned to herself and kissed Trixie again now she felt like she had all the time in the world. She wanted to take her apart and relish in her and give her the chance to luxuriate in their newfound union. Katya needed to erase the sour taint of the day and replace it with bliss, her fingers pushing into Trixie, her tongue tasting the sweat that dripped in the deep valley between Trixie’s breasts.

Bringing her hands underneath the hem of Trixie’s t-shirt, Katya felt her quiver. She lifted it up and off of Trixie, flinging it out of the way, and tried to take in the sight before her - Trixie’s bare chest, her broad shoulders and the rolls of her stomach more prominent than usual because of her seated position. Katya practically drooled. She still couldn’t comprehend how she was privileged enough to be able to do this.

She moved her hands around to Trixie’s back, smoothing them up her spine and resting them between her shoulder blades before bringing her further towards her so she could take her nipple into her mouth. She swirled her tongue once, wetting her, then sucked, hard and sudden, eliciting a gasp from Trixie as she threw her head back in uncensored, uninhibited pleasure and closed her eyes. 

Katya shifted and wrapped her lips around Trixie’s other nipple, pulling away only to watch as they both hardened. The early morning air, which filled their room amongst their sighs and shaky breaths, cooled the saliva on Trixie’s puckered skin. “You’re truly something else.” Katya admitted. “Out of this world. Too good for me.”

“Hey,” Trixie’s voice, firm and unwavering, made Katya look up from where she was contentedly worshipping Trixie’s breasts. “Stop with that. I’m no better than you, you’re no better than me. We’re equals, that’s why we work.”

They stared at each other until Katya finally nodded, sensing that Trixie wouldn’t let her continue unless she let her know that she had accepted Trixie’s statement. Katya figured Trixie knew better than to expect her to believe it just yet, but Katya also knew how stubborn Trixie was, how she could always push Katya in positive ways to get the best out of her. This instance was no exception. 

Trixie tapped at Katya’s hips to signal she wanted her to get up. Katya ungracefully flopped to the side as Trixie took off her sleep shorts and underwear and Katya laughed obstreperously when Trixie, in turn, demanded to see Katya’s “perky tits” and “bony butt”. Trixie rested back against the headboard and, as she deemed her suitably comfortable, Katya stood at the side of the bed, making sure Trixie’s eyes were on her and her alone. 

She peeled off her clothes as slowly as she could manage when the desperation to feel her naked body against Trixie’s was becoming absolutely impossible to ignore. She left them in a pile at her feet and posed for Trixie, pretending to be surreptitious as she rested her hands on her hips and positioned herself so her abs were flexed and her flat stomach would appear more toned than angular. It wasn’t as if Trixie preferred Katya one way or another or that she hadn’t made it clear that she loved every side of her, indiscriminately. Katya, nonetheless, wanted to show herself off, turn one way then the other because she could feel herself getting wet from Trixie’s gaze roaming over her and she couldn’t measure the thrill she experienced from knowing Trixie would always be there for these moments from now on. It was certainly not just a one time event. 

“You’re like a work of art or something.” Trixie gaped with evident wonder. Katya thought it more endearing than she could ever have imagined. “It’s…’cause every time I get to look at you, I notice something else and you’re obviously so fucking hot, but then there are the tiny details and— I’m not making sense. I’m too busy thinking about everything I want you to do to me.” 

Katya smirked, her coquettishness kicking in. She clambered back onto the bed and immediately grabbed each of Trixie’s thighs, squeezing her abundant flesh. She straddled her again, making sure she didn’t press her weight on Trixie’s knees, and Trixie’s hands sought her out, running over her sides and cupping her breasts. 

“Let’s try and come together.” Katya suggested into Trixie’s open mouth, anticipating the heat flushing her cheeks and the bruising kiss pressed upon her swollen lips.

“Can you last that long?” Trixie quipped, evoking a screech from Katya, her wheeze laugh louder in her ears now she was conscious of her own happiness.

Once she’d calmed down, Katya brought one of her hands into Trixie’s hair, grabbing a fistful at the base of her head, tugging so her neck strained at an uncomfortable angle. She wanted to remind Trixie who was in control, even when Katya’s feelings had completely run away with her and showed her she wasn’t aware of her destiny until it determined the due moment, that she was powerless to a greater order. She was able to garner this small piece of supremacy, at least. 

Trixie closed her eyes and Katya leant in to smell the last remaining hints of Trixie’s perfume, to drag her tongue over her pulse point and bite her ear lobe. She took one of Trixie’s hands from her breast and led it down, pressing it against her cunt. Trixie’s fingers instantly parted her lips, slid against the heat of her to stroke her entrance, feel how wet she’d become. 

“Get inside me.” Katya ordered and Trixie didn’t hesitate. Katya shivered as Trixie entered her, two fingers caressing her walls at an already steady pace. Katya moaned, kissed Trixie again and again as she began to rock her hips to increase the pressure, the curve of Trixie’s palm not quite enough to stimulate her clit. Regardless, she didn’t think she’d last long if Trixie carried on as she was - Katya was so ready for her, overdue. “So good.” She breathed.

Trixie increased her pace, meeting Katya as she rose up and down on her knees every now and then to experience an added wave of pleasure pass through her. Katya’s thighs tensed and her stomach pulled taut when Trixie crooked her fingers against her, added in quicker rubs amongst her rhythm to throw Katya off guard and send her squealing. She was making noises she hadn’t made with anyone else. 

Katya could feel herself getting close. She was ever so tempted to be selfish and have Trixie make her come right there and then. She was more obstinate than that, however. 

She sank down on Trixie’s fingers one last time before placing her hand over Trixie’s, stopping her. Katya opened her eyes to see Trixie looking positively euphoric. Katya loosened her grip in Trixie’s hair as Trixie stilled her movements. “Ok?” She asked, voice hoarse. 

“More than.” Katya replied, smiling sweetly despite how wonderfully wrecked she felt already.

“Tell me what to do.” Trixie brought their faces close together and Katya thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Trixie knew exactly what to say. How had it come to be that she was so fucking perfect, and so perfect for her?

“I’m going to sit back and you’re going to show me just how wet you are for me.” 

Katya eased herself off Trixie, deciding not to kneel for she knew the temptation to rub herself over her heel as she sat would be tricky to resist. Instead, she lay on her side, propping her head up with her hand, her weight stacked on her elbow and her legs bent. Trixie lay down on her back, her head upon the pillows of their bed so she could see Katya just as clearly as she could see her. Then, she parted her legs, knees falling out to the side. Katya felt winded. 

“_Fuck_.” 

Trixie’s cunt practically glistened with her wetness. The insides of her thighs were painted where it had all spread when she had kept her legs together as Katya was on top of her. Now, Trixie was making herself as open as possible for Katya. Katya tracked where her pubic hair was starting to grow back as she hadn’t reshaved in days, the once-distinct heart shape blending with new stubble; how her labia were asymmetrical and how a drip from within her seeped out onto the sheets as she watched Katya watch her. Trixie tried to hold on to something, clearly restless, craving Katya’s touch but craving her instruction even more.

“Pinch your nipples, get them hard.” Katya told her, grinning devilishly because it wasn’t her boobs that Trixie wanted the attention on. 

Trixie squeezed as much of her breasts as she could before rubbing over each of her nipples, pinching them and hitching a breath as she rolled them in between her fluttering fingers. Katya squinted to see goosebumps rise around her areola, her pulse racing from the exquisite sight before her.

Unable to hold herself back any longer, Katya settled onto her front in between Trixie’s spread legs. Looking up to her, she instructed Trixie to keep her eyes open and on her at all times. Then, she dipped her head and tongued Trixie’s entrance. She wrapped her arms around Trixie’s thighs, bringing her closer so, when she finally pushed in, she could reach deeper inside her, the bridge of her nose pressing against her clit. As she started to move, bringing her tongue in and out of her, she bumped her nose against Trixie too, eliciting long and loud moans as she struggled to keep her gaze focussed. Katya never broke her stare, addicted to the changes in Trixie’s evolving expression and how her eyes told her every little thing that was still left unsaid.

Her jaw began to ache. She increased her pace when she refocused her attention on Trixie’s clit, flattening her tongue against it and running her hands under Trixie so she could grab the swell of Trixie’s ass. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Trixie repeated in time with Katya’s ministrations. “I’m close.” She said, urgent, and Katya pulled away, coming to hover over her on her hands and knees, inspecting the after-effects upon her face. 

She leaned in to Trixie’s chest to lick one, slow stripe up her sternum, tasting the tease of saltiness mixed with her inherent sweetness. Trixie pulled Katya in to kiss her and Katya moaned at the thought of her tasting herself on Katya’s tongue, her cunt throbbing from the overwhelming combination of Trixie invading her senses and yet not touching her where she needed it most. 

“I’m fucking desperate to come.” Katya stated, therefore implying she was ready to allow Trixie to as well. 

“Please.” Trixie whispered, brushing her lips against Katya’s and running her hands over as much of Katya’s body as she could from underneath her. “How shall we—?” She was about to ask but Katya cut her off, insatiable, by slipping her index and middle finger between Trixie’s labia, bringing them up and massaging slow circles on and around her clit. Trixie gasped like her ribcage could no longer contain her lungs and brought her own fingers to Katya’s cunt, mirroring her actions, rhythm, attentiveness, _love_. 

Their voices intertwined and mixed together, harmonised, as they came, calling out to each other in a manner beyond words. Their shuddering breaths and convulsing bodies synchronised in time as they had always been, like they had both spent their lives until then rehearsing for that moment.

“I love you.” Trixie sobbed, crashing her mouth against Katya’s and pulling her down so their bodies met and, in Katya’s post-orgasmic sensitivity, seemed to meld.

Katya couldn’t speak, then, her voice caught in her throat. She was consumed. Trixie wrapped her arms and legs around her and held her and Katya didn’t ever want to be anywhere else ever again because, fuck, she was so utterly in love too, so gratified in the knowledge that, finally, everything in her life aligned and she had done no harm, only good, in the end.

-

Rousing from very, very little sleep to get ready to set off to Oxford wasn’t at all painful when Katya got to wake up next to Trixie, to stroke her hair and plant kisses behind her ear and on her warm, sleep-creased cheek. She couldn’t stop smiling, even when she caught sight of the bags and dark circles under her eyes. Trixie didn’t fare much better and the two of them burst into fits of laughter at regular intervals as they brushed their teeth, looking at each other in their bathroom mirror. They decided against showering together, the reality that they had a schedule to stick to and responsibilities outside of each other too important to ignore, however much they might have wanted to. Katya was proud of herself for not jumping on Trixie as soon as they were both conscious and she wondered aloud whether this meant she had actually become a real human adult woman now. 

“No, you’re still just the embodiment of that rash you got from chugging robitussin in seventh grade.” Trixie joked, sending Katya off laughing yet again.

Fena and Amy both looked worse for wear when Katya met them in the lounge. Trixie had shoved her out of the room, preferring to be in charge of packing their bags and tidying the mess Katya had made as she had hastily chosen what she was bringing to Oxford for the show. Fena was reclining on the sofa, her arm over her eyes and Amy was curled up next to her, scrolling through Instagram and watching her friends’ stories.

“Good morning, hello, hi!” Katya chirped as she made her way over to them, bouncing when she sat by Amy’s bent knees. They both groaned but Amy, upon seeing how obviously cheerful Katya was, sat up and greeted her, coming round.

“Well?” Amy asked, her usual brightness appearing quicker than Katya expected considering how late she’d got in and (probably) how drunk she had been.

“I told her I loved her too and we’ve talked it all through and, for once, I’ve not created a total shitshow! And I’m really happy.” 

The shriek that burst from Amy shocked Katya and Fena alike. It was as if Katya’s news had completely eradicated all remnants of Amy’s hangover and, when she pulled Katya into a tight hug, she shook them both from side to side, squealing in her ear over and over, telling her how delighted she was.

“Oh my god, Fena and I have been waiting for this moment for _so long_, I can’t even tell you.”

“Wait, what?” Katya eased back from the embrace but kept her hands on Amy’s forearms.

“We knew before even Trixie did. We just didn’t think you’d be _that_ far behind her with the realisations.” Fena supplied, finally sitting up and slinging her arm around Katya’s shoulder once she had got close enough.

“So…?”

“So we’ve been trying to get you to figure out you were in love with her for literally months, but especially this past week when it’s just been so in our faces that we couldn’t really take it any longer.” Fena gave her a pointed look as if to say ‘don’t even dare try and argue’. 

Oh, it all fucking made sense now, Katya thought, wide eyed. “That video you sent me.” She pointed at Amy, who nodded emphatically. “And everything you said to me at the start of the week.” She turned to Fena, the following roll of her eyes no surprise. “And the drinking games and the photos and the total acceptance of us going off alone together and leaving you two - I don’t feel great about that, by the way - and, wow, you guys, you sneaky fucks!” She cackled.

“What’s going on?” Trixie came in, face freshly moisturised and glowing. Katya could openly gawk at her beauty, equally conscious of its importance and heedless of any former comments or (unhelpful) hints such an action would have incited. 

“Your girlfriend has just become enlightened.” Amy announced with a wink, jumping up to run over and give Trixie a congratulatory hug, which she returned after a second’s delay, her mind catching up with her once she had realised what Amy meant.

_Girlfriend_. It should have been obvious, considering they’d both told each other they were in love. Katya had never been anyone’s girlfriend before. The part of her still overwhelmingly amazed by the turn of events might have dreamily thought that it was because all her adult romantic life had been making way for this moment. The sensible, cynical part of her knew it was because she’d been a drug addict and severely mentally ill and thus too preoccupied to suitably fit the role of someone’s girlfriend. So, when she got a little starstruck over the term, she didn’t berate herself. Instead, she focussed on the charming newness of it. 

During the van journey to Oxford, Katya spent it cuddling Trixie to her chest, kissing her at any moment she could and rolling her eyes when Fena told them they had this day and this day alone to get their “lovey-dovey shit” out of their system before it was back to regular programming. Amy counteracted Fena’s comments with the fact that they had always been lovey-dovey and nothing much had changed, so telling them to stop was redundant. Fena gave her the finger and tried to hide her smile.

They were playing the O2 Academy that night, with a capacity of one thousand. Being so near to London made Katya assume a lot of the same fans from Friday night would make an appearance again. It was nice to have some kind of familiarity at a time when Katya was experiencing a lot of unfamiliarities. It was all wonderful, beyond wonderful, but she was always conscious of the little things that could provide her anxiety with some relief, the fixed points she could easily locate if she felt like she was going off track.

When they arrived, Katya volunteered to go and get supplies (drinks, tampons, plasters, any other mundane item they might have forgotten) for everyone from the Sainsbury’s down the road then stop off at the noodle bar opposite for proper food. It was early afternoon but the band hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink but iced coffee bought from a Costa drive thru on the way up. Trixie told her she was coming too and the others sent them off, failing to conceal their knowing looks. Part of her wanted a reprieve from Trixie, to reset her mind and calm her excitement every time she so much as looked at her. Her girlfriend. At least, that was the presumption, and one not even one hundred percent explicitly made by her, but by Amy! Trixie hadn’t corrected her, however, so Katya was pretty sure it was the right term to be using. 

Wow, she thought, she was a useless lesbian, after all.

They held hands as they walked the short distance down Cowley Road, Trixie nattering away about fuck knows what - Katya couldn’t concentrate on anything, not even Trixie’s voice, because she was so wrapped up in the feeling of Trixie’s fingers linked with hers, Trixie’s life now linked with her own in a way she would never have preconceived. 

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, you bitch.” Trixie purposefully bumped her shoulder into Katya’s to regain her attention. “What’s on your mind?”

Katya bumped her back before leading them through the doorway of the shop and heading straight for the Tampax for Amy. Jesus, she was about to discuss whether they were girlfriends in front of the ‘feminie hygiene’ shelf. Could it get anymore stereotypical? 

“What Amy said - girlfriend...We are, aren’t we? I haven’t dived in too fast and just...assumed?”

Holding two blue boxes and some face wipes, Trixie held herself back from laughing at her, Katya could tell. She didn’t mind because talking through her anxieties always brought to light how silly they were and this case was no exception. It was also rather special, she thought, that Trixie got to see this uncertain, bumbling side to her with regards to their relationship as it was clear, now, that in the past it was Trixie who had always been the one second guessing them, and herself. 

“Yes, Katya,” She spoke slowly as if spelling something out to a four year old, “We are girlfriends now.”

Katya sped around Sainsbury’s, managing not to forget anything, paid then dragged Trixie out to makeout down a side street, pushing her against a lurid green garage door and licking into her mouth with an unstoppable energy.

When they finally got back to the venue, takeaway bags in hand, any potential teasing by Amy and Fena about how long they’d been was prevented by Michelle rushing in close behind them with the draft of their Guardian article. Fena quickly dished all their food out, cracked open some cans and threw Katya her bottle of diet coke, and even managed to look excited to hear what had been written, which made Katya smile. She knew something was a big fucking deal when Fena was ecstatic as she was usually the most stoic out of them all. 

“Read it out to us, then!” Trixie practically screeched, waving her chopsticks about. Katya felt like she’d been grinning like a loon all morning, but she couldn’t curb her reflex upon seeing Trixie so animated and positive. She was almost on cloud nine herself and she supposed she’d definitely get there if the article was good and they had another fantastic show too. 

Michelle sat down and made herself comfortable, propping herself up on a pile of coats and jackets with her Macbook on her lap and a vodka lime and soda within easy reach. “Alright. Remember, I can’t have any of the actual content changed, they only send it over to make sure there are no inaccuracies with things like the album release date or the spelling of names, ok?”

The band nodded. Katya wrapped her arm around Trixie’s shoulder, unable to eat, too intent on soothing Trixie, who was literally sat on the edge of her seat, and taking in every word Leonie had written about them. 

“‘Trixie’s my entire will to live. She’s who I think of when I wake up in the morning and she’s the one I do all this for. She’s my heart and soul because without my heart I literally wouldn’t be alive and without my soul there’d be no deeper reason to exist beyond existing itself. I wouldn’t be here without her.’ Some might mistake this heartfelt declaration to be from the year’s next big hit indie film, not from Katya Zamolodchikova, the upfront and unapologetically earnest bassist from Contact, an aesthetically and sonically mishmashed all-female group from LA, talking about her bandmate. Contact, made up of Trixie Mattel, Amy Doan, Fena Barbitall and Katya, as aforementioned, just finished their first UK headline tour when they crashed into The Guardian offices, each looking like they belong somewhere else but carrying themselves with the confidence of much more seasoned musicians. When I ask them about each other, their openness and unfiltered intensity is a lot more than I bargained for.

The band first got together three years ago on frontwoman Trixie Mattel’s 23rd birthday when she and Katya invited their mutual friends over to celebrate and jam. ‘Amy and Fena had never met before and I still don’t understand how.’ Trixie explains. ‘Fena was Katya’s roommate but we’d known each other for a while anyway and I’d met Amy through my friend Kim, and Katya knew Amy from when she used to sell weird homemade clothes back in the early 2000s.’ Unsurprisingly, they all hit it off straight away and began recording demos in Trixie’s bedroom, which Trixie personally sent off to every label she could. 

Fast forward to early last year and they were picked up by All Star Records, RuPaul Charles’ ever growing empire of acts who, he proudly states, represent the glamazons and the freaks and the innovators of the alternative scenes, brought to the mainstream. ‘I must have sent maybe five, six? Five demos.’ Katya struggles to recollect. ‘We’d all heard of Ru and majorly respected what he did, so his label was one of the first we aimed to get on. Trixie sent one lot of demos a few weeks later and almost instantly got a call back. I was like, oh great, thanks, Ru, what’s wrong with me?!’’ 

Trixie’s trademark laugh, which sounds more like one long scream, bursts out of her in response to Katya’s misfortune, a story which would have undoubtedly been retold over and over but which somehow still cracks her bandmate up just like the first time. ‘Ru would have been able to sense the crazy on you just from your fingerprints on the package.’ She jokes, causing Katya to kick her legs out and cackle uncontrollably. Laughter and insults, it seems, are what makes a friendship like theirs so long lasting.

Being amongst Contact is like third wheeling a sickeningly loved up couple, only there’s four of them and the relationship they have with each other is even more nauseatingly sweet than the most cheesy Hallmark Holiday movie romances. It could easily come across as a massive gimmick were it not so in-your-face evident that the band genuinely are all just like that. 

I muse aloud whether the depth of their friendship ever inhibited the collaborative nature of their creative process. ‘We get each other and we respect each other so, so much. Working with them doesn’t feel like work but then that sometimes leads us to be unfocused or silly and a bit hard to pin down.’ Amy says, playing with her bright yellow hair as Trixie keeps a hold of Katya’s fidgeting hands in an accidental coincidence, proving Amy’s point. Fena, who is quieter and more serious than the rest of them (by far) nods in agreement, smiling like the long suffering ringleader of their rowdy circus act.”

Michelle paused to down the rest of her drink and Katya briefly wondered if she hadn’t realised the article would be so long. Katya was pleased it was and she pressed a kiss to Trixie’s shoulder in the slight reprieve they had before Michelle cleared her throat and carried on reading Leonie’s delve into the influences behind their lyrics and a summary of their recording process for their new album.

“The band themselves think they have a ‘unique sound and aesthetic’, brought together by ‘such different influences and styles’. It’s a line that’s been peddled out before and, upon listening to their EP and their new single, Yellow Cloud, would appear to be much too bold a statement.” Michelle continued. “For the cynics and the music snobs who might have experienced it all the first time around, Contact might not be their cup of tea, or at least not be as fresh as they make themselves out to be. However, it is undeniably impressive how fast the band has managed to build an ever growing, passionate and dedicated fanbase. ‘Our fans are incredible.’ Fena states plainly, as if it goes without saying.

‘We’ve been given letters telling us that our music has helped fans with depression and mental health issues, or that just us being us has helped them come to terms with their sexuality.’ Trixie expands, amazement and disbelief written across her face.

‘There were two lesbians who we invited along to our afterparty in Manchester.’ Katya adds, her infamously perfect, toothy grin as dazzling in person as on screen or in photos. ‘They told me how I dress and act helped them feel more comfortable with themselves. I think I ended up telling them to sleep with each other.’

‘Oh wow. You should quit the band, write an advice column for The Guardian.’ Trixie jokes, and I start to see the appeal of her acerbic, quick wit brashly contrasted by her Barbie caricature look. 

The impact Contact have had on specifically LGBT fans is therefore also worthy of noting. Although none of the members have explicitly stated their sexuality, Trixie and Katya’s heavy petting on stage, the band’s references to LGBT icons in their past interviews and Youtube videos, and the sexually charged banter across their social media platforms has created a ‘safe space’ for fans who are discovering (or have already discovered) their identities. 

‘I’ve always been around gay people,’ Amy says, ‘Ever since I left home as a teen, I found the most solace in drag communities.’

Trixie nods vehemently. ‘I grew up in Milwaukee where my social studies teacher told me being gay was illegal and when I looked it up and told him it wasn’t, he said it should be. Coming from that environment— I know I can’t change the world but if whatever I do helps someone feel happy with their sexuality, then that’s a dream come true to me.’ 

‘We know we’re not leading a political movement or determining the course of history.’ Katya adds, ‘But, you guys say every little helps, is that right?’ She beams, smile wide and captivating when I explain the Tesco catchphrase. ‘It’s true - every little helps!’

As my hour with Contact comes to an end, I feel like I want to sit in a quiet, dark room and reset. Nevertheless, at the same time, I also kind of want to pack up my dull-in-comparison life and join them on their next adventure to immerse myself in their world of wonder, love and women doing it for themselves. ‘Keep your fingers crossed for us [coming back], we’ve had such a good time here.’ Amy exclaims and I don’t doubt it for a second.

Contact’s new single, Yellow Cloud, is out now. www.welovecontact.com”

As soon as Michelle finished and closed her laptop lid, Katya, in complete amazement, looked to Trixie, then Amy, then Fena. A stunned silence captivated them before they snapped out of it, sprang out of their chairs, knocking over their left over food and some of their drinks in the process, wrapped their arms around each other and jumped up and down, screaming at the top of their voices. “Oh my god! Oh my _god_!” Trixie yelled particularly loudly, pressing her head against Katya’s and bumping against her like they were in a mosh pit. 

They drank to their success, talking through the bits they particularly liked and repeating over and over how they couldn’t believe they had a whole, generally positive article about them in the fucking Guardian. 

After soundcheck, Katya took Trixie aside. There was only one thing that niggled at her and she hadn’t wanted to put a dampener on everyone’s mood. Trixie pulled Katya into her chest, kissed her forehead and smiled in that knowing way she did when she anticipated that something was bothering her. 

“I want to come out publicly, to our fans.” She announced, placing both her hands on Trixie’s shoulders and tilting her chin up adamantly. “I want us to talk to Michelle and I want us both to be able to state that we are unequivocally lesbians and that we’re fucking thrilled by the fact and that any fans of ours should fucking well be too. Is this corny of me? I don’t care, I’m on a fucking high right now and I can’t stand the thought of there being any ambiguity surrounding that aspect of our lives and I know Michelle said to wait until tour was over but I’m impatient, you know that, so I want it done.” 

Trixie bent down, captured Katya’s lips in an urgent kiss. “I know everything about you. And I agree with you wholeheartedly.” She kissed her once more. “Let’s go find Michelle before we have to get ready.”

Katya assumed they would have to put up more of a fight than they actually did. Michelle agreed to confirm with Ru via text, listening to their reasons and humming in understanding when Katya explained how it didn’t feel right to have such an important part of their existence unclear when so much else about themselves was out there and forthcoming. 

“Oh, and there’s another thing.” Trixie said once Michelle had sent her message. Katya whipped her head to the side to stare at her, heart beginning to pound because she immediately sensed what Trixie was intending to do. 

“Yeah?” Michelle quirked her eyebrow.

“Me and Katya, the whole Trixya thing...Well, let’s just say we won’t be playing it up anymore.” Trixie said, purposefully vague.

Michelle just gestured for her to continue, disappointingly not affected by Trixie’s dramatics.

“We’re together now, properly. So the whole thing of doing it for the fans won’t be applicable ‘cause we’ll be doing it for us.” 

Michelle folded her arms across her chest and gave them a pointed, stern look and Katya, for a split second, actually believed she wasn’t happy but then she broke out in the shrillest of squeals, opened her arms wide and hugged the both of them so tightly that Katya thought she might never be able to breathe properly ever again.

“Oh my god, _finally_!” She shouted in pure delight, her grasp of Katya and Trixie loosening only for a moment as she kissed each of their cheeks and congratulated them. Then, she pulled them in again, giving them one final squeeze before checking her phone for Ru’s response. She smiled. “It’s your very lucky day, ladies. You’ve got the green light from Ru and the team at the label. Now go and tell your truth and be the beacons of hope you always wanted for yourselves. I’m so very proud of you both, of all of you. This is just the start, believe me.”

-

Their last show was everything Katya had dreamed it to be and more. 

Once they had actually managed to calm down about the Guardian write up, Katya had dragged Trixie out of their dressing room into the nearest toilet, shoved her into a stall and pressed her up against the locked door. She had then proceeded to yank Trixie’s jeans and underwear down to her knees in one swift movement, nudged her legs as far apart as possible and shoved her face in between them. She had eaten her out vigorously and as quickly as she could as they were so pressed for time and the very act of doing so had riled her up so much that, once Trixie had spun them around to return the favour, she was close. Trixie hadn’t wasted a second either, ran her tongue up and down Katya’s cunt then focussed intently on her clit, applying more pressure than she usually would by bobbing her head and grabbing what little “ass meat” (as Katya called it) Katya had to bring her forward, to her mouth.

As they got ready, they had blasted music, sang along at the top of their voices, danced around together and filmed a load of Insta stories. Their article was due to go live at nine o’clock and the band helped Trixie and Katya determine what their captions for Instagram would be, announcing it and also coming out explicitly. Their stage time had been quarter past nine and Katya was relieved that everything was happening at once so she wouldn’t have opportunity to fret. She wasn’t at all nervous about coming out, she’d done it a million times over the span of multiple decades, but she wanted to ensure she was in the right mindset enough to concentrate on performing well, to ensure that she continued to keep improving and giving their audience her very best.

Katya had chosen to wear a black sequined full length bodysuit and her heeled boots that night, Trixie somewhat co-ordinating with her by wearing a pink sequined jumpsuit with an accent of black almost-zebra print. 

The show had sold out, the crowd had been truly wild and Katya had taken every chance she got to wow them with her jaunty acrobatics, get them dancing along with her and laughing at the band’s antics. She had joked with Trixie throughout the gig, smiling and winking at her, making rude gestures in the pauses between songs and doing whatever she could to impress her. She had got Amy back by picking her up as they had done their introductions and she had made sure to completely embarrass Fena by prancing around her kit, throwing the stupidest of shapes until Fena smacked her ass with her sticks and Trixie had exclaimed into the mic, “Hey! That’s my job!”

“We all know it’s Katya doing the spanking around here.” Fena had retorted, the crowd erupting in cheers and wolf whistles, and Katya rushed over to Trixie to give them a little glimpse of just what Fena meant.

Trixie and Katya hadn’t done anything with each other out of the ordinary or outstanding compared to the other gigs - they hadn’t seen the need to - but as Trixie finished playing the final chords of Time After Time and Katya was sprawled out at her feet in the splits, Katya couldn’t fight the urge to kiss her. She always thought Trixie looked beautiful but it truly struck her in that moment, right in the heart, as the spotlight illuminated her contoured, glittery face and made her outfit sparkle and her figure even more distinctly hourglass. God, Katya loved her so much.

Katya had stood as Trixie changed her guitars and, when she had returned to her mic stand, Katya pulled her in by her oversized collar and planted a kiss on her bright pink lips. In plain sight and bold, because that’s how she lived and she couldn’t imagine doing all she was privileged enough to do without Trixie beside her, doing the very same. 

Once backstage and the ringing in her ears of the deafening crowd’s applause had dissipated, Katya watched on as the others downed shots and hugged each other and celebrated the best week of their lives. She felt like so much had changed in such a short amount of time and she had been waiting for a chance to properly step back and reflect. There still wasn’t time but as her heart rate began to level out and the sweat all over her aching body was starting to dry, she could appreciate, just for a minute or so, how this tour had enabled so much for her - not just by establishing her relationship with Trixie, but also giving her the push to deal with troublesome situations that would have destroyed her in the past and making her work harder than ever before to satisfy others, both professionally and personally. 

Just as Katya was about to rejoin her three best friends, Michelle barged into the room, finishing off what seemed to be a very important phone call.

“Ladies!” She shouted and waved her hand erratically to gather the band around her. “I’ve just got the confirmation - Contact have officially secured a forty date UK and European tour this winter! You’re coming back, my darlings, you’re coming back!” 

With Trixie’s arms around her and Amy peppering her cheeks in commendatory kisses and Fena cursing with glee at a thunderous volume in her ear, Katya covered her face with her hands, this time not in disbelief, but with a self assurance she had never had the pleasure of experiencing, untainted, before. She thrived with the unabated confidence that she and her friends deserved this and that whatever would come, would be fucking incredible, so fucking incredible.

Walking out of the venue that night to greet their many adoring fans, Katya held her head up high and held Trixie’s hand in her own and held Trixie’s heart with the unshakable knowledge that she would take care of it, and Trixie, and herself, for the rest of her days.

“Hi, hello, good evening, how are you, hello!” She called out, a spring in her step as she began to go over to the first group waiting for her. Before she could, Trixie pulled her back, spun her so they were face to face and kissed her, fiercely and joyously, a smile upon both of their lips.

“I’m so proud of you.” She said against her mouth. “And I love you so much.”

“I fucking love you too.” Katya responded, before wrapping her arm around Trixie’s waist and leading her, once more, into the chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intro - Warpaint  
Love You Back - Metric  
There's A Honey - Pale Waves  
Fire Medley (Baby I'm Burning / Great Balls of Fire / Girl On Fire) Live at Glastonbury - Dolly Parton  
*Let Me Go - HAIM  
Synthetica - Metric  
Love Has All Been Done Before - Jade Bird  
I Only Hurt The Ones I Love - Black Honey  
Rockstar - Yonaka  
Lie Lie Lie - Metric  
Somebody - Dream Wife  
Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper  
Yellow Cloud - Trixie Mattel

**Author's Note:**

> This is the legendary St. Vincent video Trixie mentions https://www.facebook.com/St.Vincent/videos/10155465023335661/
> 
> Katya's stage outfit is: https://connyhascontrol.tumblr.com/post/187354929322/shes-a-dancer because I watched The Queens film and was instantly all heart eyes over this look.


End file.
